Sixth period drags into seventh and the bell is about to ring for us to go home. Unless they want to cause extreme panic they are going to have to send us home at the end of the day. Well, not panic exactly. Nobody here would even realize what was going on, most likely. However unless the administration want a thousand angry high-schoolers on their hands they have to let us go. It seems as if they too don't know whats happening, so no matter what is happening on Roosevelt Island they'll let us leave. 

"Good afternoon staff and students of Theodore Roosevelt High School!" The loud speaker booms, "I'd like to thank all of you for remaining calm today despite some near by excitement. I need to remind you all to make your way straight home after school and would recommend you stay indoors until authorities have the situation under control. Have a wonderful afternoon and please wait for the bell for dismissal." 

Again discussion starts, people wondering. People worrying. People people people.

"So it's all over?"

"It must be fine if they're sending us home."

"I can't believe they cut our lunch short for nothing!"

A fountain of words, unknowing words. They're words that forget that behind all this are people, that no matter what happens or what the outcome is people will cry tonight. People have died today and here they are worried about missing lunch. It almost disgusts me. Except it isn't my place to judge them, it isn't my job to change the world. I'm just a tenant.

"Have a nice afternoon Jocelyn." Ms. Wyn gives me a smile from behind her desk. Her normally smiling face is creased with lines of worry. Her husband works on Roosevelt Island.

"Have you heard from Mr. Wyn yet?" I step forward, in no hurry to go home. Ms. Wyn probably needs the company right now anyway. It's not as if I have anywhere I need to be, anyone waiting for me. 

"I haven't. But he'll call. He's going to be perfectly fine." She gives a forced smile, pain hidden behind a thin veneer of strength. We all have our masks that we put on when it's to hard not to. 

"I'm sure he's going to be fine." It's my turn to smile, but more realistically. Because if Captain America is there everything will be OK. We don't understand what it means to be a hero, because we aren't heroes. Which is a good thing, because I could never be strong enough or fast enough or brave enough to be a hero. It's nice though, knowing they're out there. People not trusting the heroes, those tasked to protect us, is crazy. Everyday heroes give up their lives so we can live in peace. My father didn't have a super serum to help him but he still gave up his life. Captain America is doing what he needs to do to save the world, all of the Avengers are. They've yet to let us down and I don' t think they're going to start today.

"Do you really think he's going to be all right?" I can tell Ms. Wyn is ready to break apart.

"I know it. You did hear that Captain America himself is there, right?" 

"Really?" Hope dares creep into her voice.

"Yes! Isn't that amazing! If you'd like they're showing live footage on the CNN website, I could stay and watch it with you, so you'd know exactly what's going on." It's not a purely selfless offer. I really don't want Ms. Wyn to be alone watching this, in case something happens. But I also don't want to walk home, sit there alone. If the worst happens I don't want to be left alone with the horror. No this time. If I were made to do that again it might be the end for me. There is enough horror in the world without having to face it alone.

"Wouldn't you parents want you to be home?" Ms. Wyn asks, except she wants me to stay. She wants me to stay more than than she dares to admit.

"It's just my mom, and she won't be home for a while."

"Well, in that case I suppose it would be safer for you to be with someone. You can stay if you'd like." Even though that wasn't what I meant it doesn't really matter. Because when the inevitable bad news comes at least she won't be alone. And neither will I. A win win situation, I suppose.

Ms. Wyn motions for me to bring a chair up to her desk and turns the screen so I can see it.

"Yes John, from what we are seeing some sort of holding facility underneath, yes, underneath, the Potomac is opening. It is not yet clear what is being housed in these facilities however we're hoping to have answers withing the next few minutes." A frazzled looking reporter motions to the river behind her, which is opening, water rushing away, giant doors opening. It's insane, simply not true. Things like this don't happen in real life. Except it is.

"That was Maria, reporting on site in Washington D.C. The story is still developing, although we should be getting more answers in the next couple of minutes." The anchor smiles through the screen. A thousand smiles each day. A thousand fake smiles.

Ms. Wyn's eyes are glued to the screen, as if watching the end of the world. It is, I guess, when you're sitting in that seat. 

Even as we watch giant things rise from the water. Whatever they are it's pretty obvious they weren't built for peace. Guns the size of a small car are mounted on them, trained on who-knows what.

"I need to be down there." Ms. Wyn's voice surprises me, it's scratchy with emotion. Emotion she doesn't want to show in front of me. I can't let her go to the island though, it isn't safe. It's time for me to be a hero in my own small way.

"When I was 13 my dad died in Afghanistan." It's Ms. Wyn's turn to gasp in surprise. I want to stop talking, I never talk about this. Not to anyone. But I'm protecting Ms. Wyn, so I can't protect myself. "We were close, he was the most wonderful person in the world, could turn anything into a game." I have to stop to clear my throat, wipe my eyes, before it gets out of control, "When my mom found out she hid inside herself, didn't talk to me for weeks, spent all her time at the office. We don't talk about him now, not ever. I mean, it isn't like my mom and I talk much about anything, but if we do it isn't about him." I have Ms. Wyn captivated, pulled into this old horror, away from her own. "My dad didn't promise he'd come home, always said he wouldn't make promises he wasn't sure he could keep. The only made was one he told me to make. He said that if anything ever happened to him I had to move on and live a wonderful life, forget about him. It's the only promise I made him, and I've spent the last five years trying to fulfill that promise. The worst part is, as long as I try and fulfill the promise I'm not fulfilling it, you know?" Tears are streaming down my cheeks now, even though I hate to cry. Even though this is Ms. Wyn, the calculus teacher. Even though he's dead and so many other lives are in danger.

"Then you understand why I need to go?" Ms. Wyn asks me, placing her hand gently on my shoulder. And I do. I understand perfectly. I also understand what I need to do. Nobody should have to be alone with this. 

"Then I'm coming with you." My voice is hard, no hint of previous tears. Whether she approves or not I'm going, nobody can stop me.