“Good bye honey, I love you!” called Mrs. Stromson. Maria burst through the rickety screen door, and started off for school. She departed her house 15 minutes later than she normally did, and was in a hurry to reach class on time. The casual three mile walk had now turned into a three mile dash. Maria had never been tardy to class, let alone even missed a day! She glanced down at her watch, “I have 4 minutes to run ¾ of a mile, and to be in class.” Maria huffed and puffed as she rounded the corner to Baxter Middle School. She had only 25 seconds to get to class. Luckily, her locker wasn’t far from 1st hour, so hopefully she would make it on time. Beads of sweat poured down Maria’s face. “Should I go clean up?” She pondered. “Or worry about
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Rodriguez has the pupils describe their weekends in their journal. Maria had just gotten into her writing pulse when an unexpected announcement came over the loudspeaker. The office lady, Mrs. Parkerson, clearly stated, “All students and staff must immediately remove themselves from the area. Please head to the bus garage across the parking lot. I repeat, ALL students and staff must evacuate the building IMMEDIATELY. Quickly and quietly head to the bus garage. Thank you!” Mr. Rodriguez instantly turns pale. The class gradually stands up, and rushes toward the door. We scramble through the door, pushing and shoving each other trying to reach the bus garages. The blast of bitter air hits me as I start barge through the main exit. Rumors are spreading about what is happening, or what will happen to us. Are the bus garages really the safest place we could go? I ponder.
The run that should normally last only three minutes, lasts about five. The mob of students and staff is like a school of fish. It was hopeless, Maria would be one of the last one’s to make it to the garages. Screams fill the atmosphere around her. People are tripping and falling over each other. The garages are only 50 yards away. “Maria! Maria!” Someone shouts from what appears to be the rear of the crowd. “Maria! Wait up!” The cry comes again. I need to get to the garages, I don’t have time to stop. She
Rodriguez has the pupils describe their weekends in their journal. Maria had just gotten into her writing pulse when an unexpected announcement came over the loudspeaker. The office lady, Mrs. Parkerson, clearly stated, “All students and staff must immediately remove themselves from the area. Please head to the bus garage across the parking lot. I repeat, ALL students and staff must evacuate the building IMMEDIATELY. Quickly and quietly head to the bus garage. Thank you!” Mr. Rodriguez instantly turns pale. The class gradually stands up, and rushes toward the door. We scramble through the door, pushing and shoving each other trying to reach the bus garages. The blast of bitter air hits me as I start barge through the main exit. Rumors are spreading about what is happening, or what will happen to us. Are the bus garages really the safest place we could go? I ponder.
The run that should normally last only three minutes, lasts about five. The mob of students and staff is like a school of fish. It was hopeless, Maria would be one of the last one’s to make it to the garages. Screams fill the atmosphere around her. People are tripping and falling over each other. The garages are only 50 yards away. “Maria! Maria!” Someone shouts from what appears to be the rear of the crowd. “Maria! Wait up!” The cry comes again. I need to get to the garages, I don’t have time to stop. She