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Joyclyn Bell

In honor of Paris Rhodes

I woke up hearing my 17-year-old daughter’s ring tone, which is Stuey from the Family Guy show saying, “Mom, mom, momma, mom …” I missed the first call, and as I tried to call back, she again called. I answered and immediately heard what was my worst nightmare: the sounds of my daughter crying, “Mom, I’ve been shot!”

I responded, “What, where are you?”

“I’m in someone’s yard. I ran away, I’m bleeding and I’m scared.”

I immediately jumped out the bed with tears in my eyes. “You need to find help, where are your friends?”

At that moment, I heard her friends show up. I could hear her friends in the background, crying. “Please call the police, where are y’all?” I yell into the phone.

“Apply pressure,” I hear one of her friends say. I could hear my daughter getting in the car.

“Tell me what hospital you’re taking her to,” I said as I threw on a coat and headed downstairs, navigating the phone and my emotions as I rushed out the door, praying she would be OK …

Reacting shows support for gun violence survivors.

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