Real Lockdown

“How was your weekend?”

“Not very much, playing games and some gardening.”

Clicks and tapings from the blinds leak the cold breeze from the cloudy weather. The classroom is famous for a pleasant outlook, but the class is not very large overall. Only the two students usually sit at the wooden desk placed next to each other, chatting until the class starts.

“Oh, you like plants?”

“Yeah,” the girl says, pulling out her phone.

An image of well-tempered tomatoes seem to dangle about the branches. The boy observes the succulent leaves, soft dirt, and the red vegetable. He can feel the soft, dry fingers from the sun providing a cheerful spirit to those little creatures. The phone slides back to the sleeve as the teacher appears from the corner.

“Hello, students. Today, Mr. Ben is sick, so I will be supervising you,” says Mr. Conner.

Mr. Conner loves taking pictures of mountains. He once made a club of photography, but it had to be canceled due to the lack of participants. His dark blue hat is noticed by the two students when he plumps down on the chair. They discuss about the class objective sent by the original teacher.

"I will go grab some coffee. Keep working on the project. I will check on with you," says Mr. Conner, leaving the room.

The silent typing fills the room. The boy cups his dry palms as if he caught a butterfly. Unsatisfied, he rubs his fingers, looking at flying dusts, shattered tissues, disorganized beakers, or outmoded books. The girl sighs either to call the boy or to express her swirling boredom.

Before the boy could yawn, a keen ring from the speaker changes the air. They blankly stare at the speaker until the girl nudges the boy.

"Is this a practice?" Says the girl.

"No, I think it's a real lockdown," says the boy.

"Really?"

"Really."

The girl stands up before the boy and recalls the lockdown guideline from her experience.

"Quick, pull all the blinds," the girl commands.

"You stay under the table. I will go get the blinds," says the boy.

"And, the lights"

"Ok."

They are under the table once the room is completely dark and full of the noise from the siren. Their eyes are wide open for any threats stepping next to the door. The girl detaches her phone from her sneaky pocket. A flash was the only response of the screen from her clicking the power.

"The battery's out," she whispers.

"Oh, Jeez," the boy whispers back.

"Wait...the siren stopped."

"Oh."

"Is it clear outside?"

"I hope so."

"We should check outside."

"Not now. What if the bad guys turned it off? We should wait for the teacher."

"Where is our teacher?" The girl stars shivering.

"He...He must be at his office for coffee."

"For half an hour?"

"Apparently," says the boy, with a slightly shaking voice.

A shrill scream is heard from the window. The child clearly is suffering.

"What was that scream about?" the girl gasps.

"I don't know," the boy says.

"Few seconds ago, what was that scream?"

"I don't know!" The boy shouts, quietly, "I will go find the teacher."

"No," the girl stops the boy.

"I will see the teacher and see what's happening. So, let go of me."

"Please, I beg you."

They stay underneath the table for few more minutes. The outside is terribly quiet. The girl finds a bundle of cables and searches the type for her phone. It is two-twenty. The hallway is more deserted than it should be. They remain silent in the room. The bars of sunlight spills between the closed blinds.

"A quick peep outside won't reveal us," says the boy, "I have an idea."

The phone is enough thin to go through the open window without pulling up the blind. Being careful not to project his shadow on the blue sheets, the boy quickly took serval pictures of outside. The screen displays empty desks of the other classrooms, but no hint of violence is seen.

"That's strange," the girl comments.

"I am going out."

"Wait a moment!"

The door is wide open before the girl pulls the boy in the shade. The boy forcefully yanks his hand and successfully makes it to the hallway with the girl. The wind tastes fresh from the ajar window. A peek from the window told them everything.

"It was a child in the playground after all," says the boy.

"What?" Says the girl.

"You know when you force the exit open. It activates the lockdown siren. I think that's what happened here."

"So, the kid went outside for the playground during class, and this happened."

"Precisely," says Mr. Conner, pulling out something from his hat.

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