I walk out the front door and get into the car for Mom to drive me to school.
We arrive, and I’m standing in front of the big glass double doors. A crowd of kids pushes past me as I stop for a moment to take a breath.
I decide to walk in.
I walk to my first class knowing that this could be the day I die.
Cowering in fear with a bunch of kids my age, because of a kid my age with a gun.
And no one in the entire school to stop him.
I’ve never felt so alone.
Maybe that was the last time I’d see my Mom as she dropped me off.
Maybe the last thing I’d hear is the screams of kids around me, and the deafening explosions of gunpowder feet from me.
Maybe the last thing I’d see is a hollow barrel pointed at my face and then
This is my nightmare.
And my parents can’t help. They’re not allowed to protect me here.
And my teachers can’t help. The’re not allowed to protect me here.
And I can’t help. I’m not allowed to protect myself here.
I’m not allowed to wake up from this nightmare.