We arrived around 7 p.m. in Las Vegas, a trip we made a couple of times before. The lights and music festival were an exciting welcome for us as we drove to get settled in for our New York, New York. We had just started playing slots when my life changed forever.
In a matter of moments, I was separated from my friends, waiting to die by gunfire in a casino cash vault. People ran from the street into New York, New York screaming, “THERE’S A SHOOTER, THERE’S A SHOOTER!” I ran for my life. The next thing I remember is crouching down in a locked room with about 25 other people, adults and children, waiting in absolute terror for whatever was to come.
We were held in the vault for what felt like a couple of hours until the hotel was cleared by police. I walked back out on the empty and quiet casino floor and saw the news of the massacre on a TV in the bar.
I didn’t see my friends again until eight hours later, when the threat was officially cleared.
I have PTSD, and each subsequent shooting pulls me back to that night, to the horror.