The sandstorm was three days ago. It clogged the streets and covered the rooftops of the houses. The air became thick and opaque with the sepia haze that settled over the city. There was just sand and dirt everywhere. It filled every unoccupied space. We were in school when it first struck. In the cafeteria. Like all cafeterias, it was filled with the din of chatter. That's why we didn't hear it coming. Ethan had straws inserted into his nostrils, and was blowing bubbles into his chocolate milk. Tessa was surrounded by her entourage and scouring the area for victims. The janitors outside were the first to notice. They were also the first to be buried alive. I don't know how fast the wind was blowing. I just knew it was blowing fast. Fast enough for the grains to tear right through your body. That's why the bodies weren't whole. After that, it didn't take long for everyone else to notice and start panicking. They were terrified at what they saw. The thing at the window. The man's mouth was open in a silent scream. His scream was silent because the wind was too loud and because the sand had already torn through his throat. He was clawing desperately at the window as sand filled his eyes, his ears, and his nose. The entire school was buried a few minutes later. All of the students were being lined up in the gym when something else happened.
The teachers at our school wear identification badges. They're very klunky- looking things, encased in small plastic envelopes. These badges started to glow, bathing the entire place in an eerie mauve glow. All of those wearing the badges? Their faces suddenly went blank. Their pupils dilated to slits, and their eyebrows and mouths became completely horizontal. I know it sounds funny when I say it now. But it wasn't. The teachers and staff dropped everything and headed in single file to the last opening of the building: the skylight on the third floor. Neil Ferdinand was the only one to follow them. He wanted to see what was going on. He came back in a couple of hours, his eyes wild. He was asked what he'd seen, and when he said it, none of us believed him.
"Neil, seriously, dude," said Coltan. "What did you really see?"
"I already told you," he replied, and I could tell he couldn't believe it either. "There was something <em>out</em> there. Something really big. All of the teachers were headed for it. And then all of a sudden, they're just <em>gone</em>. Just like that. The big shadow was there for a little while longer, and then it disappeared too."
WHen the storm was over, firefighters came in from the same exact skylight. They came and let down a ladder, and we all climbed up to the surface. Needles of sunlight pierced our eyes, so they gave us sunglasses. Examining the ground, we could see that Neil had been telling the truth. There, in the sand, was a long line of small cards, encased in small plastic envelopes, glinting in the sun, and covered in blood.
Nobody really knows what happened. And nobody really wants to. Most of all, nobody will ever forget it. The day the teachers went missing.
