People who have been involved in a school shooting, what was it like?

The Lockdown and Loss

I was involved in a school shooting where one of my classmates passed away. The entire scenario turned out to be a prank, and I think my brother was the one behind it all, plus all updates.

I was sitting in my engineering lecture when the sound of a shotgun firing off blasted outside, and everyone went into panic. I dived under my desk while roughly five or six students all started running towards the giant metal structure at the front of the room to hide behind.

All of these students managed to fit behind it except for one. He was the frailest and smallest one and was pushed out by the others. He was the only one out in the open.

He turned around and tried to force his way in underneath the professor’s desk. However, our professor insisted there was only enough room for one, and he too pushed the student away.

At that moment, he completely froze. He was out in the open, not moving for a solid 20 seconds before he started clutching his chest. He collapsed on the floor and began having a fear-induced heart attack.

Nobody rushed over to help him, as nobody was willing to risk their life for his, and we watched him pass away. The shooter, however, was still outside at that moment.

As selfish as it may sound, the only thing I could think of was that I needed to stay still, stay quiet, and not draw attention to myself. I was shaking so badly under that desk.

It felt like the walls were closing in on me, and I couldn’t breathe. My mind kept racing: what if the shooter came into our classroom next? I tried to control my breathing, but it was so hard.

I could hear some of the other students around me crying and whispering prayers under their breath. Minutes passed, but they felt like hours as I’m crouched under the desk trying not to lose it completely.

My phone starts going nuts in my pocket. I can hear the same thing happening all around the room; everyone’s phones were buzzing like crazy. I pulled out my phone and checked the screen.

There’s this flood of notifications, text after text coming in from friends, classmates, and even my parents. The first one was from my roommate asking if I was okay because she heard there was a shooter on campus.

Then another one popped up from some classmate I barely talked to, warning me to stay inside. And then there’s the one from my mom, which just hits me like a ton of bricks.

“Please tell me you’re okay. There’s a shooter at your school. I’m so scared. Please call me as soon as you can,” she said. Everyone was saying there was a shooter near the Humanities Building, which was the exact building we were in.

I looked around the room and saw the same fear on everyone’s faces. We were all huddled under our desks, staring at our phones.

Some people are texting like crazy, trying to let their families know they’re okay. Others are just sitting there, frozen in fear. I quickly texted my mom back to let her know I was okay and would call her when I could.

Eventually, the sound of sirens filled the air. Campus security and the police stormed the building. I could hear them shouting, their footsteps echoing through the halls as they cleared each room.

When they finally got to our classroom, the relief I felt was so intense that I almost cried. They gave the all-clear, telling us it was safe to come out from under our desks.

I was still trembling as I stood up; my legs felt like they were made of jelly. We all stumbled out of the room. The hallway was a mess; students were everywhere.

Some of them were crying; others were just staring blankly ahead. It took a while for the police to explain that there was no shooter.

The two gunshots we heard were an accidental discharge by a campus security officer responding to a false report. But by then, it didn’t matter; the damage was done.

Our classmate was dead, and the entire campus was in shock. As soon as I could, I pulled out my phone and texted my brother, Mark.

He’s also a student at the same university, and I needed to make sure he was okay. I texted him and asked if he was safe.

It felt like an eternity before he replied, even though it was probably just a few seconds. He responded, and I could finally breathe.

He said he was fine, locked down in another building, and asked if I was okay. I told him I was fine, but the truth was, I wasn’t.

I don’t think anyone on campus was fine after what had just happened. I saw my classmate pass away right in front of me.