Mr. Jamison tapped away at his keyboard. Another boring day for most, was one of excitement for him. He was proud to be the only one in his family to scrape through college, and get a decent job. He hit enter and looked up, satisfied with his work.
That’s when he saw them.
Men poured in from the elevator and the stairwell, their faces masked, their hands occupied by machine guns. He gasped and began to hyperventilate. Ducking under his cubicle he almost screamed. He heard the men, most likely terrorists, yelling at other employees.
A gun fired. Mr. Jamison slowly pulled himself to the opening of his cubicle. A man began to walk towards him. Without thinking Mr. Jamison rolled into the next cubicle and held his breath. The man walked by, checking the area Mr. Jamison had just been in. Mr. Jamison felt a tear roll down his cheek. He was going to die. Wait. This was his choice. He could choose to live or he could choose to die.

He wanted to live another day.