*Mentions of the terrible, horrible Massacre that took place in Florida on Wednesday. My heart goes out to the victims families and this lovely community. It’s time to take action, it’s time to rebuild.*
“It makes it real,” my mother uttered out to me as she softly moved my phone away from her face as I tried to show her the video that a surviving student of the Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School Shooting that took place on Wednesday had taken. The video’s details are graphic, and will not be mentioned except to say that something like this should never happen again. Seventeen students, teachers, and facility members lost their lives in this massacre and fourteen have been hospitalized.
The last twenty-four hours have been buzzing chaos but somehow deafening silence seems to creep in during the slow minutes. I was sitting in my English class this morning, ready to turn in my research paper on how text messaging can affect teenage literacy, when someone began to talk about the event that had taken place less than twenty-four hours prior. Of course I had heard and seen the news about the event, and of course I felt saddened by it, yet I had not put much thought into it.
Ironically, my campus was actually scheduled for a “lockdown drill” this week. If you don’t know what a lockdown drill is, it is basically a system put in place for if an intruder or a unknown person is to walk onto campus the school will basically “lockdown” the campus. It’s a system put in place for if an event, such as what happened in Florida, should happen here, students and facility can be “safe”. The irony of it all is that the following day, after a massacre like the ones we drill for, my school’s campus was suppose to drill through what the students of Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School went through.
(I’m not bashing on drills. Those should be enforced so that everyone is well aware of how and when to handle a situation with efficiency and care such as a fire, tornado, and “event”, etc. etc. etc.)
When I saw the video I had begun to show my mother, it all became real. Not that it was not real before but you hear these conspiracy theories about mass shooting being fake and being constructed by the government.
And then you see the bodies.
And then you see the blood.
And then you hear the wailing.
And you see the tears.
And hear the footsteps pounding on the pavement as they run away from it all.
And then I thought…That could be me. That high school has over 3,000 students and mine has 2,071 students. That high school has two police cars patrolling daily and so did that one. The students ranged from fourteen to forty-nine, I know/love freshmen who are fourteen and my oldest teacher just turned fifty in December.
This is real. Seventeen people lost their lives because someone did not notice the signs and pushed the guy to the side. Seventeen beautiful lives were lost yesterday because of peoples ignorance. Seventeen bright futures are lost and gone and are never coming back.
This is real. Parents have to bury daughters and sons. Spouses have to bury husbands, and children have to grow up without their father. This is real. The blood is real. The gun is real. The bullets are real. The bodies are real. And for what?
To the families and the community: Rise up. Bind together. Make each moment count.
To the rest of us: Rise up. Bind together. Make each moment count.
And take action.
Hearts & Rockets,