[ WP ] You and a bunch of friends are taken hostage by two terrorists in a mall , and everyone else has been evacuated by the police . You manage to slip away , and are currently hiding in a shoe store bathroom- where you meet an equally terrified retail worker .

Ducked behind the register, I slowly move to my elbows and begin shuffling my body towards the employee restroom. The sweat stings my eyes. As I pass underneath the ventilation, my hair turns cool and I catch my breath. Focusing on my only objective, I desperately inch towards a seemingly weightless door. In my left hand I clutch a silver bracelet with it's pricetag still attached. I carefully set it a foot to my left, against the base of the kiosk. I wipe my hand on my jeans, and situate myself away from the store front. 
 
 I can still hear the fear in their heavy breathing. Their hands gripping the surface glass shaking the loosened wall case. The foul aroma of urine wafts around the register. Each and every move is carefully planned. 
 
 My right hand rests gently on the swivel door, and I press against in. It glides in silence, to my relief, and I methodically twist my way in. I let the door shut on my thumb, and slowly drag it into the dark with me. 
 
 A faint glow from one of the stalls catches in the corner of my eye. When I turn to face the toilets, I see nothing. I hear absolutely nothing. 
 
 Suddenly, a small weight on my back tugs my flannel shirt. The sensation leaves me when I stand to face the shut, blank door. A small handkerchief sits at my feet. I pick it up and roll it in my fingers. My shaky right hand struggles to remove the phone from my pocket, and I place the fabric over the screen. Upon pressing the top button, the microfiber cloth reads `` Dr.Optic''. 
 
 I step my way into an open stall and face my left. A faint voice creaks as I perch my body and feet onto the porcelain. 
 
 `` Was someone shot?'' 
 
 My breathing slowed, and I hear a resounding droplet hit the water beneath me. My phone reveals a red swirl. My right shoe proves wet. 
 
 `` Yea.'' 
 
 In a fraction of a moment, the gravity of the past four minutes sets upon me. Another drop touches the side of the bowl and rolls into the pool. My foot sticks as I swivel it along the lid. 
 
 `` Why'' 
 
 I could n't tell if she asked a question. She could be even more unsettled than me. I monitor the doorway through the stall's gap. No noise. 
 
 `` I do n't know.'' 
 
 My friends. They'll probably resent me for this. Call me lucky. If they hate me afterwards, then at least there'll be an afterwards. My greasy left palm slides down the ceramic divider causing a terrible squeak. 
 
 Muffled footsteps grow louder. 
 
 I take in a shaky breath and hold it as my eyes bulge open. Completely fixed on the door, they immediately water, and a tear rolls across my cheek. 
 
 The door flies open. 
 
 `` POLICE! Hands on your head! Down to the floor!'' 
 
 I cough out my air and clench my eyelids. My feet come to the floor and I lean out the stall. My hands clasped in prayer atop my head. 
 
 Mike sobs outside in the vestibule. The now illuminated restroom reveals a young girl crying on the floor opposite. Hands frisk us both across our legs. 
 
 `` Jesus. You kids alright?'' 
 
 Before I can nod, she presses into the policeman's collar and tears pour freely from her eyes and nose. I simply stare into his partner's eyes, unsure of what to say. 
 
 A radio crackles to life. 
 
 `` Perp one, deceased. Second in custody. Over.''
