Class Dismissed.

Stepping out through the school doors I felt a pair of strong hands grab me and pull me to safety. Everywhere I looked there were uniforms; policemen, swat ,firemen. Helicopters hovered above the parking lot and the press were firing questions at me.
I looked down at my shirt, the blood was everywhere. At least it wasn’t mine. Some of it had came from Miss Carruthers, my creative writing teacher, the rest was from the students she had butchered, I thought back on the last piece of advice she had given me. “Always start the story as late as possible.”