The  fluorescent lights dim as I watch our teacher explain the recent stocks, using a PowerPoint

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The  fluorescent lights dim as I watch our teacher explain the recent stocks, using a PowerPoint. I sit at the front of the class, taking notes diligently and my MacBook Pro. My father expected me to take over the business after all, being the person that built his company, Chic Allure, from the ground up. My father runs the business side while my mom runs the fashion side of things. I look down at my outfit, an outcome of having a fashion forward mother. I looked just right, fitting in with my freshly done hair, darkening it a bit for fall, my COACH backpack hanging from the seat of my desk. I always wore heels, deciding to look my best at all points, unless at home. Then you can find me lounging in sweats with my hair up in a messy bun, only my family allowed to see me that way.

My father was born into wealth, his father giving him start up money for his business. My mother on the other hand modeled, starting from the bottom, eventually gaining access to the top. My parents met at a fashion show, claiming love at first sight, something I don't believe in. I was planning to be the source of my own future working hard in both business and fashion, modeling like my mom once did. I just recently moved out on my own, living in a spacious three bedroom penthouse. It was very glam, purchasing it with one of my recent paychecks. I loved living on my own, still visiting and staying with my parents on the weekends occasionally.

The sound of the loud speaker screeching to life made me cover my ears. "Code Red, Code Red. This is not a drill, intruder in the building," the speaker says before it cuts out, he was speaking with clear urgency.

Everything happens so fast, next thing I know I'm running towards the corner of the room and crouching. I'm in front of a bunch of people since I was in the front of the room. Our professor comes running over, "I forgot to lock the door," he mutters, but crouches in the darkness instead.

The door slams open, a tall man dressed in black saunters in. "Is Charlotte Kingsley present?" he asks, venom laced in his voice.

Without thinking I stand up, entering the light from the window. "Right here," I say, stepping forward even more, my confident demeanor not backing down. Distantly I hear someone making a 911 phone call, knowing that the man in black can't hear it from where he was standing.

They say life flashes before your eyes when you're about to die, and that couldn't be closer to the truth, as a loud banging noise enters my ears. I feel the pain before I see it, his gun slowly going back down towards his side. The pain resonates through my body, falling on my knees. I feel myself sway before hitting the ground, feeling cold against my face. The pain is no longer there, feeling numb as my eyes start to close. I hear sirens in the background and screaming all around me. I catch the man in black running away, just before my eyes drift close. The smell of rust impaling my nostrils, making my eyes water and bile to rises in my throat. Slowly entering the darkness that welcomes me with open arms.

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