hypothetical

The following is a segment for the CTG Writers Group’s HYPOTHETICALLY SPEAKING.

You are at work. While going through a pile of documents, you casually listen to the radio on your Zune to make the boring paperwork you have to do more bearable.

There is an emergency news alert. Some disturbed child has turned terrorist, and is shooting at teachers and students alike at a local high school. When the police arrived on the scene after receiving numerous 911 calls from multiple cell phones, people could be seen trying climb out of the school’s windows because the shooters had padlocked all of the doors.

You frown as you listen to the story, thinking to yourself about how violent the youth of today are. You are glad that you don’t have to worry about your own teenager. She goes to a good school where you don’t have to worry about stuff like that happening.

Something the announcer says catches your ear, and suddenly you freeze in your chair as you give your full attention to the news. Did they say the name of your child’s school? You hold your breath as you wait and listen. Officers have entered the building and bodies are everywhere, but the gunman has escaped and is nowhere to be found. Half a minute goes by and they say the name of the school again.

It IS your child’s school.

Immediately you call your child’s cell phone. Voicemail picks up. You leave a message demanding that your daughter call you as soon as possible to tell you if she is okay. You let her know that you are heading home.

You call off for the rest of the afternoon, explaining that there is a family emergency as you hurry out of the office. You turn on the news station as you fly down the road towards your child’s school. You try not to panic too much as they relay the death toll, which continues to rise as they discover more bodies.

Tears of worry stream down your cheeks. Your daughter is your only child, the only family you have. You pray furiously that she is okay.

When you arrive at the school, the scene is horrible. Ambulances, fire trucks and police cars are everywhere. Adults, children and parents are crying. People are being carried out of the building on stretchers, many in body bags.

Frantically you approach officers, asking them how you can find your daughter. They tell you that there is nothing you can do there amongst the chaos, and to go home in case your child has gone there. They tell you that if your daughter has been found to be a victim, you will be contacted at home. You scan the faces of the crowd for your daughter and leave another message on her voicemail. Reluctantly you go home, which is only several blocks away.

As soon as you get in the house, you hear noises. Relieved, but anxious to see to your child’s well being, you run upstairs and burst into your daughter’s room. She is in her underwear and is stuffing her clothes into a trash bag.

“Baby are you all right?”

Clearly startled, your daughter jumps up. “What are you doing home?!”

“I heard on the news about what happened at your school. Why are you throwing your clothes away?”

Your daughter looks down. “Um, they got someone’s blood on them,” she says.

Your heart thumps against your chest. “Oh no, don’t tell me you were standing next to someone who got shot?” You ask. Before your child gets to answer, there is a loud knocking at the door. You both look out of the window and see three police cars in front of your home.

You move to go answer the door, but your daughter grabs your arm. “No, don’t answer it!” she says.

“It’s okay baby, it’s just the police. They probably just want to talk to you because you were there.”

“Don’t tell them I’m here, then,” your child insists.

“Why not? I’m sure they just want to ask questions to help catch who did this. Why don’t you want talk to them?”

“Because it was me,” your child blurts out, tears in her eyes. “I’m the one who shot all those people!”

Hypothetically Speaking: If you were the parent in this scenario, and this happened to you, what would you do?

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