Friday, June 10, 2016

11:38 p.m.

I turned on the television, getting ready to relax after coming home from work when one of my best friends called me.

She never calls.

Did she call me by accident? Is everything OK? Does she need help?

Questions ran through my mind as I hesitated to answer. I waited to see if she was going to cancel the call but my phone kept ringing. Confused, I answered to hear a faint voice ask me, "Have you heard anything about a shooting at the boys' concert tonight?"

My heart sank. Time stopped. Memories of the past five years with them raced through my mind. Their smiles. Their laughs. Their uplifting attitude. Their contagious ambition. Everything. It hit me all at once.

I raced to my laptop and logged on to Twitter to find hundreds of people already talking about it. The word "no" constantly cycled through my head, periodically interrupted by "this can't be happening." My fingers frantically searched for a reason to believe it was a hoax but came to a dead end when the faint voice of my best friend mumbled, "Oh my God, Christina [Grimmie] was shot in the head."

My soul deflated. I felt like I was going to throw up. A state of confusion washed over me. I wanted to scream but all I could do was sit in silence.

Stories of my friends surfaced about how they were standing right next to her. Tweets revealed how they pushed fans out of harms way as they screamed and ran from the scene in fear.

The memories of smiles and laughter running through my head quickly turned into images of chaos, panic, and horror. I imagined how scared they were, what their screams would have sounded like, and the look of terror in their eyes.

My heart raced. My hands started to shake. My thought process became blurry and so did my vision as tears filled my eyes. I could feel every nerve, every muscle, and every ligament in my body tremble. My throat became dry and my mind went blank as I stared at my computer screen.

This couldn't be happening.

For two hours, my best friend and I sat in silence on the phone while searching for a reason to believe our friends were still alive. Every once in a while, the silence was broken as we whispered "Why?" and "I just don't get it" under our breath. It was a position and feeling I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.

The next morning I woke up to multiple text messages stating Christina Grimmie was pronounced dead. Yet again, I became overwhelmed with confusion and sadness. The shaking returned. I bit my tongue every time my eyes started to water in an effort to try and hide the pain building in my heart. It ate me alive. I felt sick to my stomach. It was as if the world was moving around me but I was stuck in one place. I was standing in the dark shadow of reality and felt as if I was lost inside myself. I desperately wanted someone to wake me up from this dream but slowly ended up realizing that this dream, was real life. There was no escaping the damage done.

As time went on, I started to think about all the other shootings, all the other victims, and all the other friends and family. Did they go through what I was going through? Did their hearts shatter? Did their minds go blank? Did they think it wasn't real? Did it rattle them the same way it rattled me?

I didn't even know Christina that well, but because she was a friend of a friend, it got inside my mind. It hit too close to home. I can only imagine what it would be like for someone who was actually close to a shooting victim. It ruined me, so what would it do to them?

I thought about the fact that people go to concerts to find happiness but that is slowly being ripped away and replaced by the fear of being shot. I thought about my future and how it is my dream to work in venues but now I have to be aware that there's a possibility I could be killed for doing what I love. I thought of my parents and how with tears in their eyes, they held my hand and explained they no longer want me to pursue a career in the music industry. Not because they no longer supported me, but because they feared for my life.

There is only one question left to ask: what is it going to take?

What is it going to take for the shootings to stop? For innocent people to stop being killed? For families to stop being torn apart? Or for friends to stop burying their friends?

Is it going to take everyone in the country to experience the suffering of at least person they love being shot and killed for no reason? Is it going to take another hundred people being killed before we meet the credentials to start seeing shootings as a problem? Or is it going to take a homegrown militia to take out an entire part of the country before someone says, "you know what, I think guns might be dangerous?" Because I'm not waiting that long.

As I sit here and type, my hands shake from sadness. I pause every now and then to wipe away my tears and take a deep breath. I reflect back on the life of an innocent young girl who was taken from us too soon and power through the urge to give up on humanity, but only because my mother once told me "don't just sit there, do something."

This is my attempt.

What will be yours?