It was like any other day in class - until it wasn't.
There you were, scritching away at your notebook, idly listening in on the chatter of your classmates, the noise flowing around and over you like a blanket; reassuring, constant.  Like the calm before a storm,  you thought fleetingly.
If only you had any idea how right you were. 

It was like this for a few more minutes, if not hours. You had no perception of time after everything that happened. The buzz of voices had died down a bit, the atmosphere soft, relaxed. Of course, that was when the door creaked open. People walked in, announcements were made. Worlds were shaken. Y'know, a usual Wednesday.

When those simple, final words fell from their mouths, your mind just went blank, still processing. When it finally sinks in, you gasp. It feels as if foundations of your very world have been shaken, once strong pillars crumbling beneath the weight of shocking revelations.

There's this painful tightness in your chest and a little squeeze to your throat that you don't register, not really, until you touch your cheek and your fingers come away wet. Everything feels frozen in place, as if time itself has come to a standstill, your stunned expression mirrored on every student's face.

And yet, despite it all, life still goes on as if yours never stopped, and you hate it. Hate it. So, so much, because the sun still shines, somewhat spiteful in its reassuring warmth, even as your reality fades to gray and the dam behind your eyes break. There's a crack in your rose tinted glasses, revealing the cruelty of the world for one, fleeting moment. 

You find yourself choking on stumbled apologies, catching in your throat as they erupt into strangled sobs. The rest of the day passes in a hazy blur, blinded by your tears.