The Shooting

    A gunshot booms through the Jenson Middle School’s broad hallways, triggering screams and yelps of terror. As the reality of the noise creeps into the minds of the students, a deafening silence sweeps the building.

    In Classroom 14A, Maddie Hopkins crouches alongside her twin sister, Ansley, among twenty other students. Her body rigid with fear, Maddie allows her wide eyes to scan the room in search of some form of condolence.

    Footsteps echo outside the classroom, the sound magnified by the painful quiet that cloaked the school. Maddie glimpses a shadow flitting in the corner of the room. She swallows, terrified.

    The door creaks slowly open, pausing for an ominous, dramatic effect. The frightened tension in the air is nearly tangible as the young students await their impending fate.

    A shady figure, eyes bloodshot and surrounded by dark circles, enters the room with gun in hand. Maddie emits a tiny squeal of terror.

    The armed teenager’s eyes swivel toward her. His eyebrows furrow, and in three short strides he is looming over her threateningly.

    He leans down, and with his gun-free hand hoists her none-too-gently to her feet. She scrambles backward, petrified, but the teen pursues her.

    A rough, blistered hand seizes her throat, and the cold barrel of a gun is pressed to her temple. Maddie freezes.

    “W-what do you want…?” she whispers.

    “I want you to confess something,” the deep, cold voice of the assaulter answers. “Tell me that there is no such thing as a God.”

    Maddie’s heart falls. There’s no way I can say that, she thinks to herself. Jesus, help me be strong and bring You glory.

    Out loud, she hesitantly replies, “I’m sorry, but I c-can’t —”

    “There is no such thing as God. Admit it!” her attacker demands. “Admit it, or I’ll shoot!!”

    Her eyes wide, Maddie swallows apprehensively. Her hands clutch at the man’s hands around her throat. Voice hoarse and rough, she begins to speak.

    “I feel b-bad for you, you know.”

    The silence that fills the classroom is overwhelming. The teenager’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t interrupt.

    “You don’t need to be doing this. I don’t know how or why, but somehow you’ve tricked yourself into believing that murdering us will help you. I can’t and won’t judge, because I don’t know what’s going on in your life, but I do know that this will solve none of your problems, no matter what they may be.”

    She swallows again. Her throat is drying up from explicit terror, but Maddie knows she has to continue, for the sake of her and her peers’ lives.

    “Please, listen to me. What do you think you’ll accomplish by ending my life? All you’ll do is earn yourself a reputation as a murderer, and set the police on your tail for the rest of your free life.

    “This,” she gestures widely with her hands, “all of this is an idea that is not your own. Satan is trying to ruin both of our lives and I guess this is a perfect solution.”

    Tears are streaming down her face now. She’s sure she’ll die for her impertinence, but the words won’t stop.

    “Jesus, Jesus Christ our savior, wants your life to be meaningful. He created you to do wonderful things, but you can only accomplish them if you follow Him.

    “My life is entirely in your hands. You can take my life, but I’ll just be reborn in a perfect world. God is all-powerful.”

    She squeezes her watery eyes shut. “Jesus, I beg that you’ll steer this young man toward the light. He has been led astray, but you alone can save him. I know that his life has a purpose and that you want him to live a wonderful life brimming with happiness. I pray that you protect him from evil, and that you’ll bless him with a long life. Amen.”

    When she opens her eyes, the man’s face before her is unreadable. He still clutches the trigger of his gun, his finger wavering ominously.

    Maddie gazes at him with wide eyes, her expression not one of fear but of worry. She’s accepted her fate.

    Suddenly, the gun is averted from her head to her forearm, and a thunderous boom echos through the classroom. Maddie screams as the bullet tears through her flesh, but bites her lip and does not cry.

    The entire room has been thrown into pandemonium. Students are cowering behind chairs and desks, desperate to be shielded from the fresh threat.

    The teenager has stuffed his gun into his front pocket and dashed toward the door. After throwing it open, he swivels to meet Maddie’s eye for a fleeting moment, and then he is gone.

    Her arm is coated in a red, sticky substance. The girl tries not to be sick as she glances downward, and sinks to her knees. The initial shock of the pain has not yet faded, but she can feel its effects beginning to wear off. A horrible burning agony races through her arm, and she curls her fingers in pain.

    Ansley leans over her, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her expression is locked in a horrified wail, and she dabs desperately at the blood seeping from her twin’s wound.

    Maddie’s sight is wavering. Black splotches begin to fill her vision, and she can sense that her consciousness is short-lived, but through the anguish a grim smile forms on her lips. Thank you, Jesus, she prays silently. You saved my life.