A voice came over the intercom. “You are now all going to die.” Strange, how the voice almost sounded sweet. Airy and hushed, as if breathing out the wish of an angel. But, of course, every action must be met with an equal and opposite reaction. So, as expected, chaos spread like a flooded and raging river, vicious, loud and unaware of its surroundings.

In situations such as these, you find who you really are. Usually, there are three types of people in the world of chaos. The weak and stricken with fear fall under the bubbling waves and float to a more peaceful being. The strong fight to stay. They become beasts and lose all humanity. And the givers stay behind, helping everyone but themselves. These givers swim back and haul up the children lost in the current. Givers tread water, until this water becomes too powerful. Then they drown with the rest of us.

Fire and ice. Good and bad. Black and white. Everything in our world is boldly colored in black and white. But, when the unforgiving tide of destruction surges into this world of black and white, these blocks of black and white tie-die into an unmistakably confusing grey. Who is black? Who is white? Who is good? Who is bad?

Uncertainty, confusion and bone rattling fear can drive even the sanest of us mad. Mad as a bee hive in summer when the black bears crave for their honey. Friends turning on friends. Siblings turning on siblings. The friendly children that had been soaking in knowledge are lost. School is turned into a civil war zone, everyone searching for an attacker or danger. FLASH

This life is gone. And lying in the green field, a smoky empty school. Silence. There is finally silence.

Hannah Hogness wrote this while in Dani Golden’s seventh grade English class.