Janice wrapped her arms over her chest to still the sound of her thudding heart. She didn’t know who he was, but he terrified her. Cowering in the arts cupboard, she prayed she would escape his notice.
Ten minutes earlier she had seen him from the window of her classroom. Wearing full combat gear and balaclava, semi-automatic slung casually over his shoulder, he sauntered to where the kids were lunching.
The gunfire echoed in her head. The screams she would hear to her dying day.
Please God, not today.
Her scream, as the cupboard door opened, was short-lived.
About the Creator
Tracey Zielinski
I read fiction. I breathe fiction - all kinds of fiction.
I love reading work which stimulates my imagination and takes me to new places.
My goal is to be a writer who brings your imagination to life.
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The Dance
Ecstasy written across her face, she twirled and spun. Faster and faster, a whirling dervish, wings spread wide. Long golden hair whipped around her face caressing the glistening white purity of feathered wings. She was alone, dancing with the simple joy of being.
By Tracey Zielinski3 years ago in Fiction
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