1995

I was ripped, sucked, and sloshed from my mother’s tummy at 9:03 pm on a warm August night. I tried killing myself before entering the world by wrapping and looping my way through my umbilical cord. My mother probably felt like death, too. I always wonder what it must have felt like being told your child may die before entering the world if nothing happens quickly. I wonder what the Oklahoma City bombing victims felt like when they heard the delayed sounds of the blast, only the heat from extreme force reaching their skin first.

1996

I made it through a year of the place I call home. I wonder how many infants and toddlers made it through the bombing of the park near the summer Olympics when Eric Rudolph woke up and decided to bomb it. I wonder if I went to a park that day, too.

1997

I so badly want to know what I first thought at age two being strapped into a car was like. I wonder if I was scared, nervous, excited. The sights flashing by in a second-filled blink. How much we all miss in that blink. I wonder what Princess Diana missed in all her blinks before the fatal day where her eyes stayed closed. I wonder what her last flash was in the car.

1998

I wonder why the news didn’t focus around our house, too.

1999

Columbine students went to classes one day expecting the same boring routine that had done their entire lives thus far. Two students went in with a plan to change that. I went to preschool and received the expected routine day I had always known. I wonder what I felt in the moment those students were killed in my safe room with the indoor playhouse with the little mailbox attached.

2000

I hated swimming. I hated the water. I loved the water, but I hated how terrifying it was. I hated my swim instructor for telling me she would catch me and moved at the last moment to see if I could swim up to the surface on my own. I hated the feeling of air releasing from my lungs and the quiver that began to sit in my body. I hated admitting I was a quitter. I wonder if the Navy Sailors who were bombed in Yemeni waters hated their recruiters and higher ups for swearing they would be okay. I wonder if their wives and husbands hated them for dying.

2001

I went to elementary school expecting a routine day, until my father came and scooped me out of the classroom. The x-numbered student pulled from the school that day. My father hogged the television and cried. I asked to watch SpongeBob. I wonder if that really pissed him off that I didn’t understand. I wonder what the employees of the Twin Towers expected out of that seemingly routine day. I wonder if they watched SpongeBob with their kids before leaving.

2002

I had stars and planet stickers covered on my ceiling. The stars illuminated the space when the lights went out after a day of soaking in the magic rays. I had a poster of a space station they sent out on my walls. I watched the moon and stars on my ceiling as I drifted away into the space of my mind. I wonder what the Columbia crew dreamed of as they disintegrated into their childhood dreams of going out of this world.

2003

Knock, knock. It’s the vacuum salesman here to show you this amazing product that can dispense soap and suck it up, giving those old carpets and deep clean.

Knock, knock. It’s the U.S. Special Forces here to take Saddam Hussein.

Knock, knock. It’s the vacuum salesman late for his appointment.

Knock, knock. It’s me and my mother curled in the bathroom trying to not make a sound because she’s so pissed that they showed up late.

2004

Charley, Frances, Ivan, and Jeanne. I wonder what possessed someone to start naming the hurricanes that had the potential to take lives after the names of the innocent. I wonder what possessed cancer to eat away at the functioning of my Papa. I wonder if his cancer would bear the name Theodore after him.

2005

Katrina is a pretty name. Everyone must love a Katrina. I don’t know anyone named Katrina. I wonder if a girl named Katrina in Louisiana was disliked after her counterpart did the damage. I wonder how many kids teased her in the years afterwards. I wonder if she wished to die instead of live.

2006

My father was so angry when the Democrats took congress. I was so angry when cancer finally took Theodore. I wonder if he had lost his mind angry, upset, or happy because he knew how the world would change.

2007

In seventh grade, students had to bring a change of clothes to gym days and change in front of the girls who shared the same day. I wanted to rip my eyes out of their sockets every time I went in that room. I hated that I had to stand in the section with all the girls who always had a step over me. I wonder what the shooter at Virginia Tech hated that possessed them into wanting to kill. I wonder what those individuals injured thought about while dying.

2008

I wondered what the last thought that ran through your head when you jump from a window knowing your entire worth has been sucked from the air by an invisible straw. I wondered what it must be like losing your childhood home. I wonder if we were every close to losing mine.

2009

My father was so irritated that the news channels solely focused on the King of Pop’s death for weeks. I was irritated because the news never gave focus to my favorite rock singers. I wondered why someone with such an extensive, diabolical history got so much attention.

2010

I wonder what it’s like to be an animal slowly suffocating in the Gulf from oil so carelessly released. I wonder what it’s like for a car engine to be replenished with oil after running low. I wonder if my oil started running low and that’s why the thoughts of death began to seep into my mind.

2011

I wonder if I could kill someone if it were a life and death choice. I wonder if I could kill myself if the time came. I wonder what it feels like to get shot. I wonder what Osama bin Laden thought when the bullets hit him. I wonder what my father thought when his heart stopped pumping and he laid on the floor to die.

2012

I went to a park and came home with love on the brain. The way Thomas’s teeth shown when he smiled filled me with delight. The feeling I got when he first kissed me being electric through my body. I wonder if anyone who went to the Colorado theater felt electric walking in to see their favorite super hero. I wonder if Batman could have saved them from death.

2013

The closest thing I have experienced to a bomb was the earthquake that reached my hometown on August day. The terror of not knowing if our house would stand or collapse with me inside. I wonder if it felt the same in Boston. I wonder if those people thought the buildings would collapse. I wonder what Thomas thought when her set a bomb off when I discovered he wasn’t loyal. I wonder how I didn’t collapse.

2014

I wonder why girls have it much harder than boys. I wonder why boys find it okay to hurt girls, torture girls, make girls believe they are not worth it on this world. I wonder what girls around the world think. I wonder if the Nigerian girls taken from school wonder this. I wonder what the men who took them wonder.

2015

Boston still survived despite the bombing. Tsaenaev wasn’t so lucky in the end. I wonder how I survived knowing that Thomas still wasn’t faithful.

2016

Love is love, they echoed across the nation, as I leave Thomas two days before his birthday. I wonder what it’s like to love.

2017

I wonder why women are still fighting for basic rights. I wonder why women have died trying to gain those rights. I wonder if, deep down, I still want to die. I wonder what my mother would feel if I died. I wonder if I have a girl of my own one day if she will want to die, too.