The birds flew. They were beautiful to watch, but you could tell something was off. They were scared. I believed they were warning me, telling me that something wasn’t right.
Three gun shots erupted and he yelled, “Run. He’s got a gun.” That was when the chaos began and I ran. I felt dizzy and like I wanted to stop and hide but I kept telling myself I needed to make it to the car. It felt like it was the longest run of my life, like I was never going to make it.
I kept hearing screams, one from a father begging “my baby, my baby,” one from a mother who had been shot, many screams from children, and everyone else. But I heard no scream from my self. I could get words out but it was like I had to tell myself to wait. When it felt like it was over, when I was out and okay, I called my mom and the only thing I could say was, “I’m alive, I’m alive.”
I was 15 at the time, freshman year, April 2024. I am 16 and a junior writing this now.