He was chasing us, and we were running. All of us, every man for himself. I knew no one. He hadn't shot anyone yet, but we knew it was coming, and yet we all obeyed in entering the open door of the house. I knew I had to hide. Grabbing a young man and woman near me, complete strangers, I threw them into a closet with me. Behind the dark wooden door, the walls of the closet were glass, and sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains. I instructed the two to lie down and be quiet. The girl kept crying and whimpering, and I lay down on top of her to silence her. She began asking repeatedly, "do you love me?" and staring into my eyes with great sadness. I assured her that I loved her.
We heard the gunshots begin, and knew that people were dying. I put my arms around the boy as well, and we were silent except for our breathing. I heard the gunman stop outside the closet door, pausing and scratching on the door before entering. He knelt down next to me and put the gun to my head, looking into my eyes. He was lonely.
As I opened my mouth to say, "please," he pulled the trigger. I don't know what happened next, because I woke up.