On July 28, 2006, a man walked into my work and began to shoot. He shot six women. One fatally. But this is not their story. They have their own voices. And Pam’s family carries on her voice. Their stories are not mine to tell. This is my story.
I hid under my desk, listening to my friends and colleagues being shot one by one. Their screams. Their pleadings, Their silence. I jumped from my window. Even today, the traumatic brain injury I sustained affects my life every…single…day. The other survivors of that day are my heroes. I follow their lives on social media and I watch as they grow, and age and share their beautiful selves with the world. That day changed my life, as it changed so many others.
At first, I did not feel I had a voice because I was not shot.
At first, I thought I was a forgotten victim.
Now, I know I am survivor with a voice and it is my responsibility to use it. For the other survivors. For Pam. For my children. For me.