RESUMED

My dad turned off his engine the moment he got to the parking lot at my school. He looked at me and said, "Welcome back to school, kiddo. I'm sure you'll love the refurbished building."

I packed my backpack and lunch, looked at my dad, and asked, "Dad, can you do me a favor?"

"What's that, kiddo?"

I removed a piece of paper from my bag and gave it to him. "I need those books," I said.

"The Art of Martial Art and The Supernaturals," he read. "What do you need these for?"

I opened the car door and said, "Thanks, Dad. I appreciate it." I walked into the school's hallway.

A large number of Westify High students had stopped. I presumed they were too scared to continue. I mean, who would risk the life of a child in one of the best and most unsafe schools in town? Well, it would take more than a shooting to take me out of here; I've made too many memories here.