Sandy Robertson

The five of us arrived at school this morning to find another two pupils wanting to join us. What took me even more by surprise was the fact that one of my colleagues was also waiting at the door. Sandy, was a Biology teacher who I had called earlier in the week at home. He said that my call had been the first contact he'd had with the outside world since this thing had started and he had become ill. The fact that I had called had been a deciding factor in getting him to come in today. I have to admit to feeling immensely pleased that at least one of my calls had paid off - we were even using his room!

As had been the case yesterday we started off by just making tea and chatting. Just before 10.30am there was immense crash as one of the windows caved in. Outside a group of about six boys were gathered. I knew some of them by sight although at least a couple were strangers. Aged between 13 and 17 they were almost feral in their appearance and behaviour. They were only interested in getting the girls to come down. I couldn't believe it, after all the tragedy that people were experiencing and which had no doubt impacted upon them that all they could think about was girls. But this wasn't the friendly cat-calling and chatting-up that might have been the case a few weeks ago - this was much more menacing. They were battering on the door and pulled a metal fence post out of the ground to try to lever it open. I phoned the police not expecting any answer so was surprised when someone replied after three rings. I gave our address and explained the situation - they were on their way. Sandy made his way downstairs and told us to barricade the door.

As we watched from the window we saw Sandy trying to push them back through the broken door with a table leg. It seemed to hold them at bay for a few minutes but then one of them got a hold of his arm and he was pulled through the window. I've never witnessed such violence but couldn't bring myself to look away as they kicked and jumped on his head. Was this all my fault?

We heard the siren before we saw the car but the boys didn't seem to pay any attention. It was quite obvious that Sandy was no longer conscious yet they continued to kick and stamp- taking turns as they got tired. A solitary policeman jumped out of his car and shouted a warning but the group ignored him and carried on with their frenzied attack. I was suprised when he drew a gun from his holster, he shouted another warning then fired a shot over the boys' heads but still no effect. The oldest and biggest of the boys started to walk towards him with the table leg he had taken from Sandy. The policeman, who didn't seem to look much older than the boy, fired another shot over his head - the boy just laughed - then, in what seemed like slow motion, I saw the boy drop to the ground almost before I heard the second shot. What the hell was happening? In three weeks we had been reduced to this?!

I'm afraid that as I write this up tonight I'm completely broken. My hopes of yesterday have vanished and I wonder if we shouldn't just lock our flat door and wait at home like everyone else.

Perhaps "it" will win after all,