I heard it. Then I saw people run. I saw a group of three people huddle together. I was on the sidewalk. I heard a scream. I felt pressure. Then I felt burning. Then it hit me: I had been shot. Twice. In the chest.
I didn’t know what to do. What I’m sure was a matter of seconds felt like eternity. Call your mom. That’s all I could think.
The phone rang. “Hi sweetie,” my mom said. “Call 911, I’ve been shot,” is what I yelled back. I heard a lot of”what?!” I was silent. Then survivor mode came. Call 911 yourself. So I dialed the number.
That moment forever changed my life. I will never know why I’m the one who survived. After 11 days in the hospital, numerous procedures and lots of care, I’m here, telling my story. Mentally I have a lot to go through, but physically I’m recovered. I’m a survivor; my life changed forever. Two months out, all I can think about is not letting this happen to someone else. No one should be walking down the street to meet their friend for dinner then be shot.