Once we were inside the classroom, I couldn't even think. I instantly started trying to figure out where to hide as my friend checked me for gunshot wounds. We sat down against the wall, but there was no good place to hide—no matter where I sat, I would have been in view of the hallway or the outdoor windows.
At the time, the injured student was sitting at a desk, so we picked her up and laid her on the floor. My friend put on gloves from the first aid kit and instantly started applying pressure. Police then decided to get us off campus, so we lined up in single file, with our hands up above our heads and walked outside. They heard footsteps coming up the nearby stairs, so they threw us all against the wall until they could figure out who was coming.
He wanted me to talk to someone about what had happened, so that evening I visited an emergency trauma therapy area which had been set up for the local community. My dad had encouraged me to go, but I was not ready to talk so I just sat there in silence.
I kinda understand her insecurity and trauma though I still hope for gun control. It's like nuke among countries gun among people; both deadly dangerous.
That'll trigger em...just wait
Fuck off, Newsweek. Read the room.
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