Lockdown

I crouched in the corner of the library storage room, resting my head against the cool metal of the library shelf.  My mouth was dry, my palms sweaty, and my heart was near a hum rather than a beat.  Closing my eyes, I began to think of all the things that could go wrong.  Had I locked the door?  Could he see the bathroom light under the door?  A chair was creaking. Was I absolutely SURE that I had locked the door because now that I thought about it...

Then the doorknob jiggled, and my heart dropped to release the butterflies in my stomach.  After kicking the door and turning the doorknob a few more time, our active shooter moved on.  Later, shots were fired in a neighboring hallway, and I knew either a teacher had been spotted or the police were confused about the shooter's position.  But slowly my heart resumed its normal beat, and I fidgeted in my seat and made a mental note to bring my phone the next round.

Lucky for me, it was all a drill.  A drill we repeated two more times.  And thank goodness that I did not have any students to worry about. I tried to remain objective as a newly pregnant co-worker debated between making her students the priority and protecting her unborn child.  However, objectiveness in the face of emotionalism is not my strong suit.  I am not pregnant, so who am I protecting?  Minus myself, because I'd like to get married in August and be around some more.  But knowing my nature, I sincerely doubt that would stop me from opening my door or sharing my hiding spot (strictly against the rules, apparently). *sighs* I'd rather think about math.