On May 1, 2022, my last shift at a college bar before I went home for the summer, an active shooter began firing downtown in the city I was in. I tried to close the door to the bar but ended up running, pausing and looking back at the door. This lasted maybe one second before I turned to run again, as the shots kept being fired from right outside the bar. Before I could collect my thoughts, I was shot through the window into my right hip.
I immediately collapsed to the ground; I couldn’t get myself up. My head was in someone’s spilled drink on the floor, and I kept checking to see if it was blood. I slid backwards away from the door, hoping the shooter did not enter the bar. The police returned fire and took the shooter down (outside of the bar and outside of my view).
I broke my femur; I thought I was losing my life because of the adrenaline and fear; I thought my femoral artery was hit.
Paramedics came, and I was shortly taken to the hospital. The gunman shot 11 people, none of whom died.