By: Anya Chen

Then, all of a sudden, everything went silent. The shuffling of chairs, the scared whispers, and the buzzing intercom stopped. Students under tables and behind cabinets widened their eyes with fear, holding their breath so the stillness wouldn’t break. A teacher’s trembling finger pressed against her lips, each “shush” intensifying the heavy tension. Heavy footsteps echoed in the empty hallways, sending shivers through the students hunkered behind inadequate mounds of chairs and cushions.

The quietness is finally broken by the whimpers of a little girl, slowly whispering “I want my mom, I want my mom”, her voice breaking on every syllable. Squeezing the hand of the student nearest to her, she shuts her tear-filled eyes.

The silence is alive, a deep void that foreshadows echoes of chaos and tragedy that will move beyond the school’s walls. As rumors, mourning, and paranoia travel from mouth to mouth, the traumatic silence remains in the students’ minds forever.