he had a gun. this little child had a gun and it was pointed at me. we kept going back and forth. something about exams. something about going there or here. suddenly i was here. a flight of stairs and an elevator. i told him that i wouldn't shoot. i put my gun down. but he didn't. i grabbed one of his friends and carried him down the stairs with me. no shots yet. i ran into a room that i knew. mrs engel i think was there. lock the doors. that was our only precaution. nothing else. she decided to open it. i ran into the closet, which was blatantly open and had no doors on it. my legs were exposed as i stood huddled into the corner trying not to breathe too loudly. i couldn't stand it any longer. i came out. he was lying there coloring. an old peanut butter jar next to him. i had to end it. i tackled him and we fought over that jar- the one that had the gun in it. i got the gun from him. but for some reason there was still a threat. it was impossible to get rid of. i had already shot him before and nothing had happened. i asked her to call the fbi maybe. she said that they'd know already. nothing could be done. and so it ended.
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