The following is a fictional story of a composite character meant to represent America's relationship to gun violence:
The murky rain clouds completely swallowed the humid July night sky, shielding the earth from the light preaching hope from the twinkling stars above. Any second now, the clouds would open and submerge the city in a flood of chilling water. Lily sat on a stone cold bench at the bus stop on the abandoned outskirts of the city; the glow of the skyline glimmered behind her. Her eyes, glazed over in the most peculiar manner, suggested that her body was present but that her mind was absent from this universe. The relentless sound of her hand-me-down watch seemed to echo, endlessly, into the night, as loud as a sonic boom. The constant breeze whipped her hair around her neck and face, like ropes trying to fasten a noose but never actually accomplishing the task.
Finally, the first drop of rain fell like an ice torpedo from the deep, dark sky above. At first, Lily sat numb to the feeling of the sprinkles moistening her skin. As each drop hit the surface of her pale white completion, though, the cold buried itself deep in her, sending tidal waves of chills throughout her unmoving body. She was plunged into an even deeper depression than before. Lily let a tear slide from her eye, but the thought of a stray pedestrian witnessing her in this pitiful state made her cease the torrent of tears about to fall.
The bus arrived fifteen minutes late at about a half past midnight, but Lily did not notice difference. Drenched, she boarded the bus robotically and took the last seat in the back row, just out of reach of the hazy rays from the yellowed flickering fluorescent lights. Arctic-cold drops rolled down her boney spine, collecting in a puddle on the peeling plastic seat. She hugged her knees. Out the window, she gazed, looking at everything and nothing all at once. Suddenly the bus shifted gears and bolted down the road and away from the city. Lily watched as the only place that she knew as home was slowly cloaked in darkness. She had no idea where she was going or why she was leaving, but she knew one thing: she had to get out.
Actually, that’s a lie. Deep down, hidden in the crevices of her subconscious, Lily knew exactly why she was escaping her home: she was running for her life. There wasn’t a bloodthirsty murderer chasing her or a major storm threatening to rip apart the city. No – the danger was much more subtle and constantly present. It weighs heavily in the pockets and purses of pedestrians as they walk amongst the city streets. It is strong enough to rip apart lives, families, and communities alike. It is a right of the citizens but at the same time, it’s a heavy plague on society. The danger from which Lily was running had taken her brother just as it took many brothers, sister, fathers, mothers and friends before him. It destroyed her world just as it had destroyed the world of parents who sent their children off to school in Connecticut never to see them again; of students, walking to class only to be picked off in Virginia; of churchgoers and religious personal gathered for a Bible Study that ended up being their last; or of friends looking for a fun night out in Orlando but ending in heartache.
The danger is nothing more than a machine, a hunk of metal, a gun. While these machines are lethal and are the means by which thousands are killed yearly in America, whether it’s by accident or through a planned slaughter, there is no way to only ban the guns that are killing people.
Gun control activists want to take away the guns that are being used in mass shootings, the semi-automatic “assault weapons,” but is this feasible? While it was easy to say, “Let’s ban machine guns” decades ago, the guns that mass shooters are using to take down rooms of people vary. Looking at the mass shootings in the past few years, the types of weapons that are used range from simple weapons, including handguns, to semi-automatic weapons, including… semi-automatic handguns. You see, it’s not as simple as saying “ban the guns that are killing people.” You can't ban a hand gun, and even if you try call for a ban on semi-automatic weapons, you will be met with outrage from people who use these weapons for sport and for protection; people who aren’t looking to instill fear or take the lives of the innocent. These are understandable concerns, but they should not be enough to stop us from trying a solution.
But where does that leave America? We fight background checks, we fight bans on large capacity magazines, we even fight safe storage laws (which only 11 states have; 28 have Child Prevention Access Laws). So where is there a middle ground? Where is there a place where we can meet – democrats and republicans, conservatives and liberals, gun owners and gun fearers – as just American citizens concerned for our children and for the lives of each other? Does this place exist? Can we find a place of understanding and compromise between safety and freedom? As it looks now, the answer is no.
We claim we “don’t have a gun problem” when the signs are all here. Unintentional deaths, gun suicide rates and mass shootings are all astronomically high in the U.S. compared to other countries. We argue, “Guns don’t kill people, people kill people,” but the argument is ridiculous. If a mass murderer had a knife, would he have been able to slaughter 49 people in Orlando on June 12 as quickly and efficiently as he did? Yes, people kill people, but people with guns can kill and injure a lot more than those with other means of weaponry (excluding bombs, of course).
All these thoughts swirled in Lily’s head like a whirlpool. A realization hit her harder than a major league player would if he took a grand-slam swing at her stomach. She sunk into her seat defeated and distraught. An acidic taste began to rise in her throat, making it hard for her to breathe.
She couldn’t out-run this; nobody could.
This isn’t a problem that can be solved simply; it is one that will continue to get worse and worse with time if something is not done soon. The lists of names will only get longer and the fear of being gunned down at any given moment will only become more normal. We will be brainwashed to believe that if we all carried guns, we can protect ourselves and we would have nothing to fear. Not only is this invalid reasoning, but every man, woman, and child should not have to pack heat to make sure their neighbor doesn’t pull a fast one on them...
After hours of fighting it, tears finally slid from Lily’s eyes. She sat limp in the back seat, silently mourning. Mourning for her sense of security, for her brother, for Orlando, for Newtown, Charleston, Aurora, Virginia Tech, Columbine, and for all the victims of shootings unmentioned or un-nationalized.
As the bus drove off into the night away from any old city on any old road, a girl lost her faith in her country.
This is no longer America; this is a gun nation.
