Hey, thanks for posting that! The link I had didn’t work anymore, but this means I don’t need to go back and repost all those stories again. I didn’t see this next one on there, so I’ll throw it up here. It’s very old and dated and kind of simple, but hopefully some people enjoy it.
On the last day of her life, Julie awoke much like she did any other. Slow to rise, but otherwise bubbly and full of good cheer. There were less than two months before graduation, and she couldn't wait to start living on her own. She had no reason to expect that she would be anything less than wildly successful in life - she was smart, sensible, strong willed, and hard working, she had a great sense of humor and a winning personality, and to top it all off she was spectacularly beautiful.

Before getting dressed, Julie stood in front of her closet mirror and took a moment to admire her reflection. A youthful, exuberant, eighteen-year-old girl beamed back at her, full-figured in her underwear, tasseled brown hair hanging down to her smoothly round shoulders, shocking blue eyes fierce with intelligence and vivacity. She pressed her petite hands to her flat, soft belly and felt the warmth generating there, then smiled and slid the closet door back on its track, revealing an array of fashionable outfits, from which she selected a pair of cream colored slacks, a black sleeveless undershirt which stopped more than an inch short of her navel, and a white vest which she wore open in the front, leaving bare a fair portion of her midriff.

Feeling exceedingly pleased with herself, Julie ran a comb through her lovely brown locks, munched on a pop tart, and caught the bus to school.

In the parking lot she passed Erika and Debbie going in the opposite direction, and was tempted to deviate from her schedule and ditch class.

“Hey, bitch, we’re gonna go the mall and catch a flick, you wanna roll?” Erika asked her.

Julie gave it more than just a passing thought, but in the end her constitution held strong, and she declined. “Nah, I gotta catch up on Mr. Nichols’ Calculus class, that shit’s kicking my ass,” she said, blissfully unaware that in a couple of hours she would have no need for differential equations, or parametric equations, or any other type of equation.

“Whatever, nerd,” Erika teased. Julie grinned and watched them go, then continued on her way through what she expected to be another routine of her daily grind. First period English went by without incident, and second period Government and Economics was about halfway gone when the excitement began.

Ms. Collins was droning on about inflation while Julie struggled to keep her mind on the subject matter. It was far too easy to day dream when her dullard of a teacher got started on one of her lectures, and her mind was torn between the effects of an increase in goods and services on the market and whether or not Penny was ever going to propose to Leonard on The Big Bang Theory.

"Hey, Julie." It was Freddy, the scrawny kid who sat one desk to the right of her. Julie looked over to see what he wanted, and he passed her a folded up piece of paper. She straightened the crinkles and smoothed out the creases to reveal a pornographic doodle of Ms. Collins sucking Freddy’s cock. It was remarkably well drawn; there was no questioning who it depicted, even if Julie was certain that Freddy didn’t have a disproportionately large member. She raised a hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle, and held the paper below her desk so it was out of view of their teacher.

She mouthed, “Can I keep it?”, and Freddy’s facial expression and hand gestures gave her indication that he’d be honored for her to hold on to his artwork. She smiled at him, and he seemed thoroughly pleased. Of course Julie knew he liked her. What guy in school didn’t like her?

She was congratulating herself on her way with the boys when a commanding voice from the back of the class demanded, "Nobody fucking move!”

Naturally unable to obey, Julie turned her head to see who was making such bold implorations and saw a half-crazed man with a pistol in each hand, a couple of bandoliers weighted down with bullets, two more pistols fixed under his arms with shoulder holsters, and duffel back slung over his back. He was a thin man with squirrely black hair, wild, angry eyes, and yellowing teeth, who appeared to be in his mid 30’s.

While some of her classmates gasped or cried out in fear, Julie found herself intrigued. It did not even register that her life might be at stake. Her own mortality was like the space beyond the galaxy – something she knew existed but which had no real context, and thus was something with which she need not concern herself. She watched quietly as the wild-eyed man dropped the duffel bag on the classroom floor, pulled an Android phone from the front pocket of his trousers, and shouted at Ms. Collins to “get her ass over there.”

Julie looked on, thoroughly enthralled, as her teacher went tentatively to their disturbed intruder. The gunman raised his cell phone as if to snap a photo of the woman, and with barely any perceptible movement he fired a shot from the hip, snapping Ms. Collins head back. The woman dropped like a sack of rocks, and there were several screams from among her classmates.

With this sudden, unexpected development, Julie’s view of her situation went from that of an interesting story with which to regale her grandchildren sixty years from now, to genuine concern for her safety. If this man could so callously kill her teacher, completely unprovoked, what was to stop him from killing Julie? Still, the possibility remained curiously opaque.

The man punched some buttons on his phone, and then returned his attention to the class. “All of you just stay in your seats and be quiet, and you might not end up like her,” he told them.

For close to fifteen minutes everybody did as the man said, with soft murmurs occasionally drifting between desks but nothing more. Meanwhile, the man paced nervously, and his attention became increasingly focused on his phone. At times he would curse at it with such venom one would think the machine responsible for all the grief and turmoil in the world.

When fifteen minutes had passed, the man approached Jessica, an attractive brunette Julie had pal'ed around with in the seventh grade, told her to look at him, and he aimed his phone at her as he had Ms. Collins earlier. This time Julie was able to anticipate the shot before it came, and was mostly unsurprised when the man put a bullet into Jessi’s chest, even if Jessi appeared to be completely shocked by this action. The man kept his phone trained on Jess as she sputtered and choked, and eventually slumped over in her desk, presumably dead. The man pressed some buttons on his Android, as he had after Ms. Collins death, and Julie understood that he had filmed Jessi's demise and sent it to someone, for reasons about which she could only speculate. Was this just a game to him? Was he or someone else getting off on this shit? Julie began to wonder if he intended to kill them all, despite his earlier assurance that they might survive if they listened to him. She needed answers, and could no longer hold her tongue.

"Why did you do that?" she asked. "She didn't get out of her chair or say anything."

"SHUT UP!" the man screamed at her, but Julie was unimpressed.

"What's the point, if you're just gonna kill us all anyway?" she asked him.

Julie could see the man was considering her appeal, and slowly he came to recognize the logic in what she said. "Okay, look, you're all hostages," he told the class. "I'm currently in negotiations with the police, and you're my bargaining chips. Once they give me what I want, you're free to go."

Julie was suddenly curious. "What did you do?" she asked.

"That," the man snapped, "is none of your concern."

"Come on, just tell us. What's in the bag?" Julie gestured towards the duffel bag the man had dropped on the floor. "Did you rob a bank?"

The man gave her an incredulous look. "Do you want me to shoot you, you crazy bitch?"

"No, relax, it was just a question," Julie said, wrinkling her nose. Then, after a pause, she realized her original query had gone unanswered. "So why'd you kill Jessi?" she asked again. "Seems kinda stupid to kill your hostages."

“Those fuckers are trying to dick me around!” the man shouted angrily. “I had to show them. They have to know they can’t fuck with me.”

“They’re not gonna wanna negotiate with you now that you murdered a high school chick,” Julie told him frankly. “You should probably just give yourself up before it gets worse.”

“They’ll give me what I want,” he growled at her. "For everyone fifteen minutes they refuse, one of you dies. How many kids do you think they'll sacrifice?"

Julie blinked at him, unsure how to respond. "I dunno," she said at last, her voice meek, lacking its former defiance. The man's mind was set. He was prepared to murder every last one of them, and now that Julie had chosen to speak out, she might very well be next. Unsettling fear began to strangle her courage, and for several minutes she and her classmates sat in virtual silence.

All the while time loomed in the back of Julie's mind like a menacing shadow, darkening her thoughts. Every second that passed, the fifteen minute window her captor had set drew shorter. The Android phone brought no relief, as the man continued to pace and curse, clearly displeased with the news on that front. Minutes slipped away, and Julie's nerves grew more frayed by the moment, until she could stand no more. Rising from her seat, she addressed the class.

"This is bullshit," she declared. She could feel the crazy bastard's eyes on her, but she ignored him. She was loved. She was popular. There were at least five or six boys in this class who would stand up with her and not sit by and let her die. They just needed the proper motivation. "We're just gonna sit here and wait for him to kill us? Come on, he can't shoot all of us, w..."

BLAM!!!

Julie was cut off mid-sentence by the report of the gunshot, and she twisted slightly as a .38 slug bit into the left side of her midriff. The bullet penetrated her at a forty-five degree angle, as she had not been facing her shooter, and ran out of steam deep inside the tangles of her intestines. Her left hand went instinctively to the wound, and her jaw dropped in shock.

She looked down to see a small, black hole in her white vest begin to spit out blood, and she caught some of it in the palm of her hand. Then her wide blue eyes raised back up to see the thin tendril of smoke rising from the barrel of the gun, and she gaped in disbelief. I’ve been shot, she thought in astonishment.

There was a brief moment of silence before the man fired again, and again, and again. This time Julie was directly facing the man, and she caught all three shots square in the gut, creating a trio of gruesome holes in her bare belly. Two of the rounds managed to punch clean through her body, but by some small miracle they did not strike any of the teens seated behind her. The third glanced off her spine and changed trajectory, ending up down in her pelvic area. Julie stumbled backwards into her seat, but awkwardly managed to remain upright. The man shot her a fifth time, his aim a little higher, and a hole opened up in her black undershirt, a few inches above her navel. This chunk of lead lodged itself in her stomach, causing critical damage to the organ.

The man lowered his gun and met Julie’s eyes as she slowly sank back into her seat, and for the briefest of moments she swore she detected a hint of sympathy and regret in the madman’s gaze, then it was gone.

“She’s right,” the lunatic announced, glancing around the room. “I can’t shoot all of you. But the first motherucker out of their chair, and the second, and the third, maybe even the fourth and fifth. I can most definitely shoot you. And I won’t make it quick, like I did for your teacher and…” the man paused, trying to remember the name Julie had used for the girl he shot, “Jessi. I’ll make it slow, and painful, like pretty little blue eyes here.”

Julie looked over at Freddy and smirked. "That was a dumb idea," she told him.

“Are you alright?” Freddy whispered to her.

Julie peered down at herself, both hands clutching her stomach, and saw gouts of blood pouring through her fingers. Her cream colored slacks were quickly turning cherry red. “I’m fine,” she said, and offered him a sheepish grin, allowing him to note the blood on her teeth. “I’m like Tupac. Five shots couldn’t stop me.”

“Tupac’s dead, you stupid bitch,” the gunman told her.

"Thanks for the update," she murmured.

Things were fairly quiet after that. So quiet, in fact, that Julie could hear the spattering of her blood as it dripped onto the floor beneath her. She tried to stay positive, but found herself replaying the events from the parking lot that morning in her head, wondering what she'd be doing if she had ditched class with Erika and Debbie. Right now she could be at the mall, miles away from this nightmare, watching Iron Man 3 or Evil Dead or Scary Movie 5 and eating popcorn and drinking soda, but instead she was here, bleeding to death in Ms. Collins' class, all because she cared too much about her future. Maybe if she had been better at math, she would have been more comfortable skipping.

Meanwhile more blood than she had imagined possible gushed and spurted from her guts, and she puked scarlet rain into her lap. I'm not gonna make it, she realized. I think I'm really dying. If the passage of time had been menacing before, now it was downright terrifying.

"Please," she cried. "Please, I need some help."

"You want help!?" the killer snapped. "Tell it to these assholes!" He aimed the Android at her and told her to talk, "Go ahead, tell them!"

"Please," she said again, "Give him what he wants. I'm dying. I need an ambulance."

The man lowered his phone and pressed some buttons as he muttered, "You need a hearse."

Julie wondered if he might be right. Had she lost too much blood already? Was she really going to die, ambulance or not? She looked around at her friends and classmates in wide-eyed horror, her eyes stopping on Freddy. "Freddy..." she said, but she was unable to finish her sentence. Her ability to form coherent thoughts melted away, and all she knew was panic. Random memories began to flash through her head, until she was in the parking lot on the morning of her death.

“Hey, bitch, we’re gonna go the mall and catch a flick, you wanna roll?” Erika asked her. Julie wished with all her being she could say yes. Then she was no more.