“Do NOT let them in, that’s the killer!” – 16 Apr 2014

In the weeks prior to April 16, I had noticed signs on a few doors around campus, telling of a coming lockdown drill on the day at 10:00 AM.


I came into class, and my calculus teacher confirmed that we would be having a drill that day. I had arrived about 15 minutes early, and I was the first person in class. The teacher explained that since class started at 10:00 AM, those that would be late would end up locked out for the duration of the drill.


Well 10:00 came and there were about 90% of the students in the class. The teacher wrote a note for everyone that came after to take cover somewhere else, and stuck the note on the outside of the door before locking it.


The class then all moved to the wall parallel to the door, and turned out the lights, so if anyone looked into the window on the door, it would look like the class was empty.


Most of the class was standing against the wall, but by the time I got to it, there was no space left, so I sat on top of an adjacent desk, out of view of the door window. The teacher sat next to me on the desk, and we all got real quiet.


The teacher informed us that he, and we, should receive a text message from the front office when the drill was over, and that people would be coming around to check if the doors were locked in the next few minutes.


We all waited for a few minutes. There was sporadic whispered chatting, and occasionally the teacher would hush the crowd when the noise level got too high.


Suddenly, the door handle started to wiggle. We immediately grew deathly silent, and watched the handle carefully. It jiggled again, and again, and then stopped.


We lingered in the darkness, pressed against the wall for a few more minutes; the teacher looked at his watch.


“Is this thing supposed to be over already? It’s supposed to go for ten minutes, but I didn’t get the ‘all clear’ text yet. Look in the other room, are they still waiting?”


One of the students near the corner looked through the door that connected our room to the adjacent classroom.


“Yeah, they are still hiding in there.”


“Well, I guess we’ll just hide as long as they do.”


After a short period, we heard a soft tapping at the door, and the handle wiggled like before. The tapping turned into a persistent knocking.


“Is that one of the students?” the teacher asked.


I, sitting right next to him, explained “students would definitely not be knocking that fervently, that is definitely the ‘shooter’ trying to trick us so we’ll open the door.”


We heard a voice from outside the door moan “open the door, come on, the lockdown is over.”


“Do NOT let them in, that’s the killer!” I advised the teacher in a hushed voice.

He listened, and we continued to hide. The minutes ticked on, and he got impatient.


“You know what? They said it was only supposed to be ten minutes, we got to get on with class, they should have sent the text by now.”


He got up and opened the classroom door. Three or four students came in, and saw the majority of the class huddled against the wall.


“Oh, so THAT’S where you all were!” one of the entering students said. We chucked at him.


We all went back to our seats, and the teacher checked his phone, before announcing “oh, I just got the text.”


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s