Trigger Warning: This article describes a mass shooting through the eyes of a child. Violence, children dying, usage of guns, America. Please do not read ahead if these make you uncomfortable.
The day I died was just like any other day. Mommy dropped me off at school and I forgot my homework. We got a new student in our class who transferred from another state. I sat and paid attention to my teacher. I talked with my friends about the newest toy that had just come out. We went to recess and played tag, getting yelled at for running. I fell and scraped my knee, but a trip to the nurse's office and I was all bandaged up. That should've been the only damage to me that day.
Until the bad person came.
We were learning cursive when I heard fireworks, at least it sounded like fireworks. The teacher locked the door, but not before grabbing two older students who were wandering in the hallway and forcing them inside of the classroom. They told us to hide in the corner like we do for a lockdown drill, and be very quiet. I was confused. No one had gone on the intercom to let us know about practice. Because we have to practice if bad people come in and want to hurt us.
There was no sound except for the breaths of my fellow students until a sharp cry came from the hallway. "Shooter!" The voice yelled, carried by loud footsteps. More fireworks.
The teacher was trying to dial 9-1-1 on their phone but there was no reception for some reason. Kids in the class started crying and while the teacher was trying to calm them down, they were still at the right volume. With a bang, the door handle was blown off and the door was pushed open. There was a man with a long gun and a vest on, which was weird because Mommy told me never to point pretend guns at anyone, even if it was a finger gun. The teacher cried out and stretched their arms, trying to shield the students but they were only so large.
Some kids had gotten frightened and tried to run under the desks. I recognized the new student and tried to call out their name, but the bad man was already firing and they dropped to the floor, along with a few others. How sad it is to have been murdered on their first day at a new school.
The teacher began to cry as well, begging the man to spare our lives, to just not carry through. He didn't seem to listen as he adjusted the gun and aimed. I saw the teacher and more of my friends fall before I realized that he was coming closer to me. I just wanted my Mommy and Daddy. I was there one moment and then gone the next. I will miss my family. I hope they knew that I love them and tried to be brave.
I will never get to meet my new baby brother or sister that lives in Mommy's tummy. I won't ever get to graduate high school, I won't even get to graduate from elementary school. My parents will have to bury their child because someone took me away from them. Not a disease, not a car accident. A man with a gun. There will be no more birthday cake or Christmases for me. I will never get to live again because a bad person with a gun took that away. Why was he able to walk into the school with a weapon so easily? No more guns because no one, especially a child, deserves to die from senseless gun violence.
I was just supposed to be at school, just to learn.
I was just supposed to go through my day, only having to worry about my new spelling words or what my parents packed me for lunch.
Why wasn't I safe?