What She's Made Of (Castle)

Story Time

"So when I was eight I was supposed to die." I said. I let the memories and words flow at the same time as I recollected the day in Mrs. Taylor's third grade classroom. We were making butterflies for the spring play coming up. I was coloring mine a bright pink with lime green stripes.

The day was cut short when we heard a bang in the hallways. Like something dropping. That's what we played it off as. Then it happened again. Only then did my teacher realize that this wasn't a student dropping books. It was when we heard rhythmic blasts and screams that turned to silence that we realized that someone was in the school.

I was terrified. We had all done the stranger danger procedure a million times. In the moment, we had no idea what to do. Mrs. Taylor turned off the lights in the classroom and said "Ssh. We have to be quiet. I want everyone to get into the supply room." We didn't know how we were supposed to do this. The supply room was big, but big enough to fit 18 scared third graders? And their pregnant teacher? It was seemed to be impossible. I knew we all couldn't fit. I couldn't defy my teacher though. I went to the supply room and held Haley tight. I decided if we were gonna die, I wanted to die with my best friend at my side.

Then our door was kicked open. Before we could whimper and cry, our teacher said that if we were all quiet she would let us have class outside for a whole week. This was pretty convincing for us. I went along with it, but knew that there was going to be something bad. I heard banging and clashes through the room behind the supply room door. I heard a gunshot. It was to scare us and get a yelp out of us.

It did. Three kids screamed. I sat down on the floor behind a garbage can with Haley. We were silently crying. We didn't wanna die. Who does at that age? I couldn't see, but could hear, the teacher frantically trying to barricade the door. The shooter beat the door down. Sixteen scared third graders, two hiding behind a garbage can, and a pregnant teacher. He had a pretty good choice. Mrs. Taylor defended all the kids.

He took out five kids and the baby. He shot my teacher in the stomach and killed her baby. He killed five innocent kids. Then he looked right at me and Haley. He saw us. He still had bullets. He could have killed us. He didn't though. I don't know why.

My teacher was on the ground in pain. She looked at a girl and said " Take everyone outside. Find a teacher. Go through the window.". That girl was me. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't take my eyes off of my now dead friends. I realized that I was putting our lives in danger. I told everyone to follow me and we went out the window. I was lucky we were a first floor classroom. I helped everyone get out and then we cried to another teacher that five kids were killed and our teacher was inside.

I was called a hero, but I didn't feel like one. I should have died. He looked right at me. He could have shot me wherever he wanted. I was trapped. I couldn't move. He didn't shoot me though. My mom was relieved that Haley and I were okay. Three days later we had a memorial service for the kids and my teacher. She ended up dying because of blood loss. I felt terrible. I should have died with everyone else.

Ever since then I have been paranoid that that guy didn't get caught. And that he is still out there. There are times I think he is watching me, toying with me. That he was just getting ready. He still wants to kill me. He just wants to get me when everything is going right. Lucky for him that hasn't happened in a while. So he gets to mess with me even more.

I took a deep breath. "And that is my story on why I should have died." I said weakly smiling. "Oh, sweetheart. I am so sorry. I didn't know that happened to you. I remember it being on the news. I never knew that little girl who helped those kids was you. Don't put yourself down. You are a hero. You did save those kids left. It made all the difference to those families. That man could have come back in and hurt more people, but because of your bravery he didn't get the chance." Beckett told me holding my hand.

I didn't feel like a hero. I felt terrible. I should have died. Close to ten years later, and I'm still living with that guilt. Janie Willis, Cody Hamstra, Bobbi Franklin, Isiah Misch, Carrie Goodman, and Mrs. Taylor and her baby. I lived with his guilt for so long. I watched so many people die right in front of me during my life. The feeling of watching people die is something that you won't forget.

"I know." Beckett said. "Shit. Thinking out loud again." I muttered. "I've seen it too. Try being the one who had to kill them." she said. "Beckett I watched my best friends die when I should have. I think we got each other tied." I said, shrugging my shoulders. "Yeah, I guess we are." she said "Don't dwell on what you couldn't do. Remember what you did, and that is help those kids out. There could have been much more heartbreak that day. Because of your bravery though, there wasn't as much." Beckett said looking into my eyes.

I knew what she meant, and that she was right. I didn't want to listen though. I knew this was my fault. I lived with so much pain in my life that this wasn't a big difference in the weight on my shoulders. I had carried the burden of secret storms for so many years. It was like I couldn't take them off. It was like they had eventually become a part of me.

A part that couldn't be taken apart.