I walk through the shallow corridor

Short Story for AS Creative Writing. I apologise for the title. Any feedback would be fantastic.

I walk through the shallow corridor, my footsteps echoing against the overwhelming silence. It’s weird for this place to be quiet. I remember it being busy, the constant buzz of the hallways. I take the next left knowing the route well, ducking under a broken light, the bulb hanging precariously from a wire off the wall. Clambering over some of the rubble obstructing the corridor, I take a deep breath, my senses suddenly overwhelming me, so many memories. I remember walking to lessons from here.

I can see myself now, linked arm in arm with friends, laughing before the shots, before the screams, before the burning smoke choking me from the inside. God, the screams, I think they were the worst. That’s what I remember in my worst flashbacks and nightmares. Screams, piercing through the air like the ricocheting bullets tearing past me. I remember falling, crashing against the floor, desperately trying to breath, to see anything through the thick, hazy smoke, burning my eyes. My fingers clawed against the ground coming into contact with the red, slowly snaking its way across the floor. Another bang and the world goes hazy, fading in and out, the walls turning and the screams fading.

 I screw my eyes shut, slowly falling against the wall. I take a deep breath to try and calm myself. I knew I shouldn't have come.