The Assault

It was just another typical day at school. The sun was high, casting a warm glow over the campus. Students buzzed through the halls, chatting about assignments and weekend plans. For me, Anthony, the day seemed no different than any other, except for the knot of anxiety that had been building in my stomach since the morning. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen.

After sitting through a grueling math class, I raised my hand to ask for permission to go to the restroom. My teacher nodded, barely glancing up from her papers. I slipped out of the classroom, grateful for the brief escape from the suffocating tension.

The hallway was empty, the usual cacophony of student chatter reduced to a distant murmur. I made my way to the restroom at the far end of the building, the one that was usually deserted during class hours. I pushed open the door and stepped inside, letting out a sigh of relief. The cool, sterile air was a welcome contrast to the stifling heat out