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Memoirs of a Post Modern America Chapter 2 "Miranda" (part 2)

posted 4/5/2008 10:10:11 PM |
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After she left, we all sat down for a math test. I love math, especially tests. They’re so easy and I know that when we have a test, there’s no homework that night. We had just gotten our papers when there was a loud noise in the hallway. It sounded like someone dropping a bunch of books, but a lot louder. Mrs. Shelby looked scared and went to open the door; but when she touched the handle, the door flew open, and a man with a gun came inside and started yelling at everyone. It was very hard to understand what he said because he talked funny; I mean he had an accent like Mommy said. I guess he was from Jamaica too, but he didn’t sound anything like Mr. Gilbert. He must have gotten angry that nobody understood, because he grabbed the boy in front of me from his seat and pushed him out the door. He was reaching for me when Mrs. Shelby grabbed his arm. That made him really angry and he hit her harder than I have ever seen anyone hit before. Mrs. Shelby looks like a strong lady, and even though she fell on the floor, she got back up and told everyone to go quickly to the gym.
As we walked, well ran really, to the gym, I saw that there were men everywhere with guns pushing kids and teachers around the halls. I wasn’t afraid of the guns; I had seen them plenty of times when we lived in our big house. Men used to bring them to Daddy all the time to try to sell them. What I was afraid of were the men. They didn’t look or act at all like Daddy’s soldiers. They hit people and kept shooting their guns at the ceiling. I was worried that if they weren’t careful, someone might get hurt very badly, but I guess they didn’t care about that too much.
In the gym, Mr. Stanley, our headmaster, separated us into groups. Boys on one side, girls on the other. Then he separated us by our age. I don’t think he wanted to, because one of the men were shoving him around with a gun pointed at his back. After everyone was in their groups, the men gave Mr. Stanley a piece of paper. Mr. Stanley tried to give it back, but the man hit him with his gun and started yelling and pointing his gun everywhere. It was starting to get very loud in there because everyone all the men were yelling and everyone else were crying. I didn’t cry because Mommy told me that big girls don’t cry. Mommy cries all the time, but she said that’s different because she’s a woman. That didn’t make much sense to me, but I guess that’s another thing I’ll understand when I’m bigger. After it got so loud that nobody could hear anything, one of the men pointed his gun at Mr. Stanley shot him. Blood splashed everywhere, especially over the man that shot him, and that seemed to make him angrier. One of the teachers, Miss Barnes from the second graders, ran over to help Mr. Stanley, but the man shot her too. Mrs. Shelby told us to scoot around on the floor and put our head on the girl’s back in front of us so that we faced the wall. She was holding a piece of cloth to her head and her eye looked like it didn’t want to open anymore. Seeing that made me want to cry, but instead, my throat just hurt and my tummy quivered because I was scared.
As I put my head on the girl in front, I heard more loud noises and finally everything was mostly quiet except for the girls crying around me. One of the men started to talk loudly, to everyone in the gym I guessed. I couldn’t understand much, but it sounded like he said that he was going to take us out in small groups to meet our parents. Mrs. Shelby told us quietly that when our names were called, that we were to line up by the gym door and do whatever the men told us. Everyone seemed to be a lot quieter knowing that their parents were coming. For some reason though, the teachers didn’t seem too happy about what the men were saying. I guessed maybe it was because they didn’t have parents to come get them. I wondered who would come to get them then?
When the first group of kids left, I peeked a little and saw that it was all boys, mostly 6th graders. There weren’t very many of them, maybe 5, or 10, but I guessed their parents had arrived first. It seemed like forever before they started to call out the second group of names. This time it was mostly girls, some from my group. They all seemed very scared, but still happy to be going home. Time was going very slowly as they called more and more. Mommy always said that that time could go fast, slow, or even stand still, but it would never go back. I wished it could go backwards, because I would go back to that morning and not go to school. I worried that maybe Mommy would lose her job because she had to pick me up, and I started to ask Mrs. Shelby if maybe Andrea’s mom could give me a ride home, but suddenly all the lights in the gym turned off. This made the men get very excited. They pushed all the kids into the center of the gym, and they stood on the outsides looking around and pointing their guns everywhere. They started calling names faster, and taking larger groups of kids outside. It seemed like they were afraid of the dark. I have a nightlight in my room for Devon and Michael, but I wouldn’t mind if it were just dark. I guess that maybe some grown-ups are afraid of the dark too.
It had started to get very hot in the gym and I took my outer shirt and shoes off and left my little T-Shirt on. Mommy always makes me wear one. She said it would keep my outer shirt clean, but I didn’t see how if was under the one that gets dirty. I peeked up at the ceiling in the gym and saw that it was getting dark outside the windows up there. Just then I notice what looked like legs walking around outside and before I could gasp, all the windows broke at once and there were loud flashes of light and booms everywhere. I covered my ears and closed my eyes. The girl next to me was screaming, and I knew that made the men angry so I turned to her to tell her that it was ok. I opened my eyes and looked to the side, but she was leaning on the person in front of her. I realized that it was me that was screaming, not her. I closed my mouth and tried to grab her hand, but my hand got all wet with something dark and she fell over into my lap. I hadn’t noticed until then that the men inside were shooting at whoever was on the roof, and the people on the roof were shooting back. There were people trying to crawl through the windows, but as soon as they came in, the men inside would shoot them, and they would fall to the floor.
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Memoirs of a Post Modern America Chapter 2 "Miranda" (part 2)