We heard marching. Fast-paced, strong, and synchronized. Then silence and soon after panic. We could only assume what was taking place but the panicked screams didn’t leave much for the imagination. And very soon thanks to my restless nights and endless nightmares I got to relive what I never experienced over and over again. 

At first when the lineup of senior students marched forward at the command of someone on the far right. We were startled but only by her powerful voice and the fear lasted for only a moment. We thought a performance was going to take place or that they’d make way and guide us on a tour of the school or something. No one was expecting the gunshots. The first row of seniors slit up in unison, not daring to break their rhythm, and marked back down the sides of the gym regrouping in front of the garage doors. To our surprise, the garage doors started to close but we weren’t ready for what we thought to be ornamental props to be pointed in our direction. No one made a sound, distress had paralyzed us. It wasn't until the first round of shots were fired that we started compressing into each other. There was no escape, we were surrounded by walls on all sides and our only exit was blocked off by deadly bullets. They could have killed us all right then in there but for some reason they only shot a few rounds at a time, herding us like herding dogs driving us into a corner. We used each other as shields: friendship, compassion, morals, and respect, were alien concepts in those dire moments. Once I finally got to the stairs more kids flooded in behind me which made it extremely difficult to get a good footing. Many tripped and those who couldn’t get up fast enough got trampled. There was so much screaming and horrific sounds I couldn’t even describe. Adrenaline rushed through my body. I could see everything and once and at the same time nothing at all. I don’t know how I made it to the second floor or why I skipped the first. I didn’t stop running until the wave of terrified children thinned out to catch my breath. 

In my dreams I was atop the staircase, a ghost, just standing idle watching the bloody faces of children of all ages clawing their way up to safety passing through me. I could have helped them, warned them, suggested we investigate where the staircase leads, or something. I let all these kids die so I could get a head start and save my own neck. Not that anyone noticed, I couldn’t blame them I didn’t notice either but the firing squad never chased us up the stairs, they didn’t continue 3 meters from the door frame. Hey just stood there, arms raised, guns in hand, and stood there in silence for hours until someone dismissed them. Sometimes my consciousness would jump from kids to kids' bodies and I'd experience the whole event from their perspectives. I felt everything so greatly it's awful. Instead of merging into the crowd of screaming children to escape through the thin doorways in the wall some students tried to sneak forward and passed the armed seniors. Their efforts were greeted with bullets, and anyone who got trampled and left behind were also shot, but the injured and half-dead children who sat on the staircase unable to descend its steep steps were spared. It appears that passed the black entrance was a safe spot, not that it matters now. No one dared to go down to the main level since the “entrance ceremony”. That was their goal; it wasn't to kill all the new students but to scare them into running up the stairwell.

Thanks to the anonymous voice on the PA system we later found out that this was the entrance exam. The exam was a game - hide and seek.