I see it on the headlines:

17 people dead.
I read the tweets that say:
This is the 18th school shooting in 2018
I’m reminded that
we’re only in the middle of February.

When I see these numbers that are slowing becoming statistics,
instead of thinking:
17 people.
There’s got to be a way to stop this.
I think:
Thank goodness it’s not as bad as Vegas.
As if the amount of people who died is a competition.

When I see 17
instead of thinking:
17 families I must pray for.
17 people who were involved in communities that I must pray for.
17 families changed forever.
17 families that will never be the same.
I think:
I must pray that it doesn’t happen tomorrow,
or the day after,
or the day after that,
at school,
church,
work,
Concert,
the mall.

When I leave for the bus in the morning,
I make sure I say
Goodbye
I love you
See you later
In case I never get the chance to say it again.

When I walk from class to class
I think:
It would be so easy for someone from that window to shoot me.
And I walk faster.

When we have a lockdown drill
my heart speeds up and
my body chants:
Fight or flight
Fight or flight
Fight or flight
I try my hardest to cover up my panic attack.
I wish I felt safe.

I don’t understand why
someone thinks that protecting students
is against the 2nd Amendment.
Please,
I want to beg,
I just want to feel safe.

I avoid the extra large crowds,
Just in case.
I stay closest to the wall in a lockdown drill,
Just in case.
I keep my phone on me,
Just in case.
I tell everyone I love them,
Just in case.

Instead of worrying if I’ll live through the day,
I want to worry about my learning all I can,
because isn’t that what school is for?

Generation Z is not the generation who ruined the planet.
We are not the ones who ruined social security.
We are not the ones who voted for Trump.
But we are the ones who are growing up surrounded by mass shootings.
We are the ones living in fear of going to school,
music festivals,
work,
church,
concerts,
movie theaters.

Who hide in closets praying for their lives.
Whose teachers protect their students with their life.
Whose parents pray for their safety.
Who only want to make it four years without it happening to them.

And the words of a Parkland survivor stands out:
“You never think it’s going to happen here.”
And I worry because
I never do think it’s going to happen here.