Episode 3: When the Bell Never Rang Again
A Coolvalstories Production
Final Episode – Based on the real Oxford High School shooting (2021)
The SWAT officer grabbed my shoulder.
“Go. Keep moving!”
But my legs barely responded.
My eyes stayed fixed on the bloodstained locker two doors down. The same one Riley had stood by, staring into space, two days before the shooting.
I shuffled forward. My sneakers slid slightly on something wet.
I didn’t look down.
🧍🏾 The Boy Who Survived
We were led into the auditorium—the same place I’d stood two weeks earlier to sing during international student week.
Now, it smelled of sweat, fear, and faint urine.
Dozens of us sat cross-legged on the floor.
Some were shaking. Some silent.
A few stared blankly into space, faces drained of all color.
I was among them.
A medic came over and asked if I needed anything.
I shook my head.
How do you ask for peace of mind?
🎒 They Found His Bag
A detective walked past, speaking quietly into a radio:
“They found a note in his bag. Said it wasn’t a cry for help. Said it was revenge.”
Revenge?
For what?
This country had given him everything:
A warm home, public school, therapy programs, birthday guns.
But he still wanted blood.
Still wanted bodies on the floor.
Still wanted to be heard—with bullets.
🔚 The Bell That Never Rang
I kept waiting for the school bell to ring.
For someone to shout, “False alarm!”
For Ms. Tara to call us back to class.
For Riley to wake up in bed and say it was a nightmare.
But the bell never rang.
Because there was no next period.
No lunch break.
No “see you tomorrow.”
Some never got to finish their science experiment.
Some never got to eat the lunch their moms packed.
Some never got to say goodbye.
🌍 Nigeria vs America
When I first got to the USA, everyone said I had escaped Nigeria.
“No more bad roads.”
“No more blackouts.”
“No more fear of robbers or kidnappers.”
But today, I had been seconds away from death.
In a country where school should be the safest place.
In Nigeria, you watch your back on the road.
In America, you watch your back in the classroom.
Back home, I had seen cult fights, teachers slap students, even police threaten youths.
But never this.
Never a classmate aiming a gun at you because you didn’t smile at him in the hallway.
🪞 My Reflection
Later that night, I stood alone in the bathroom mirror at my host family’s home.
I looked at myself—the boy who came to chase opportunity but stared into the mouth of a gun instead.
Tears rolled silently down my face.
Not from fear.
From something worse: confusion.
I whispered, “Mama, I’m alive… but am I safe?”
Then I stared back at my reflection and asked the question that still haunts me:
“Is anywhere truly safe?”
💔 The End
A Coolvalstories Production – For the survivors, the lost, and every student who walked into school and never walked back out.
