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It began like a normal day. I was in seventh grade at the time — 12 years old — and had stayed up the night before studying for a geography exam. The periods came: first, second, third and fourth. At the end of fourth period, choir, my principal came over the loudspeaker, calmly announcing that the school was going into a code red. Drills like these were commonplace. Sometimes, code reds were announced if the drug dog...