(flash fiction, one minute read)

Walking about the school unarmed was not only humiliating, but quite scary. Jodie paused at a turn of a corridor, pulled down the visor, and checked her garments: the bulletproof vest beneath her uniform was quite bulky, but since it was a new rule, she had to wear it at all times. The most hateful, of course, was the helmet: every now and then, its buckle would pinch Jodie’s skin right under the chin, making her eyes moist with tears of anger.

A door in the end of the corridor creaked, the Principal came into sight. He trotted toward the Teachers Room, the flamethrower at the ready. The door clicked locked behind him and the school became silent again.

The feeling of danger made Jodie’s heart beat like a drum. Aww, how stupid it was of her to blab that she’d like to see swings in the school yard instead of that anti-terrorist bunker! Now, she was punished with having to go everywhere unarmed for two weeks!

She felt lonely and scared, and her staggering milk tooth disturbed her like hell. I’m not ready for school yet, she thought. I wonder, could I return to the kindergarten? Hmm… Need to ask Mom about this when I’m home.

Teachers with guns, picture from chicagonow.com