When you are lying on the cold, hard floor for more than 12 hours, listening to loud reports of guns you only thought existed in movies echo across the area, leaving the impression that the shooter is right outside your door; you have a lot of time to think.
Your terror-filled thoughts oscillate between prayers to wishes, to regrets, to your loved ones and complete resigning to fate, then back again in that order. You pray that God lets you live to see another day.