The bitter cold air of mid December cut through Newtown, Connecticut while my parents dropped me off at Sandy Hook Elementary School. My teacher greeted her students and friends gathered in circles to discuss their plans for the weekend. The regular patterned day began. Little did we all know, that was the last regular patterned day we would experience for a while. I was coloring the number four when my life flipped upside down. Ms. Soto had us color in all numbers on the number line divisible by two, I chose the green crayon. It was a forest green and reminded me of the trees that were fully grown during the summer time. I always loved deep green and the way it fulfilled my brain with life. I sat towards the front of the classroom, right …show more content…
We all looked up and around each other and then at Ms. Soto. “Pop! Pop! Pop!” the booming sound made my stomach drop to the floor. My gut told me this was bad. There were four more of the popping sounds that reminded me of fireworks. “Put the gun down! Put the gun down!” we heard. Ms. Soto ran to the light switched and flicked it down. Her demeanor was calm, “ It’s okay, kids. Get into the closet now. Do not speak,” but her I could see through her maturity mask. She knew it was over, too. A few students ran behind her desk, myself and around twelve other students pressed our bodies against each other in a closet of school supplies. Three more of the tiny explosions and cries of terror engulfed my ears. Those are my friends. Paranoia and adrenaline controlled every inch of me. Every few seconds, another kid stuck in the closet with me would break the painful silence with a hiccup of a breath. The screams and gunshots were not ending. Chunky footsteps stampeded through my hallway. It’s coming. This is it. The killer. Although anxiety flooded my brain and made me think I was going to die, the actual thought of death never crossed my mind. I did not believe the killer would choose my classroom. I was
cold, harsh, wintry days, when my brothers and sister and I trudged home from school burdened down by the silence and frigidity of our long trek from the main road, down the hill to our shabby-looking house. More rundown than any of our classmates’ houses. In winter my mother’s riotous flowers would be absent, and the shack stood revealed for what it was. A gray, decaying...
One ubiquitous concern of parents is that of their child’s safety. Parents go through life making decisions that they hope will benefit the child. One of the decisions parents must make for their child is where he or she will attend school. School is meant to be a safe haven, a place in which a child is encouraged to grow and prosper. Tragedy strikes, however, when that safe place is twisted and morphed into a place of fear and anguish. This was the shocking reality for parents of high school students in Columbine, Colorado. Two shooters, Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, Columbine High School seniors, entered the school and opened fire, killing thirteen, injuring twenty-four, and firing a total of 188 shots. Although Harris and Klebold committed suicide at the scene, their actions are a living reminder of the possible dangers schools are succumbed to and the necessary precautions that must be taken to prevent future events such as this from occurring. Evidence supporting the motive behind the shooting, a depiction of the event itself, and the aftermath are portrayed in the gripping manuscript, Columbine, written by Dave Cullen. With in-depth descriptions and an unbiased tone, Cullen reveals the mystery and calamity that stupefied many for years—the Columbine Massacre.
My feet planted firm on the ground as I bit the inside of my cheeks to feel something. My pigtails and gray uniform forgotten along with my surroundings as I just watched death do his work. I didn’t feel like a kid anymore. The once peaceful scene turned into a mass of chaotic moments as soon as metal clashed on metal, and the remains of glass littered the floor of the street in front of the fenced gates of my school. My peers screamed loudly but the sound of the crash replayed in my head, but worst of all is that I saw the blond hair of the woman cover her face like a veil tainted red. My teacher ushered us to wait inside yet my mind was numb and my thoughts blurred as I heard the cries of the adults.
How safe do you feel when you attend school everyday? Many students and faculty don’t really think too much about school being a dangerous place; however, after a couple of school shootings had taken place their minds and thoughts may have changed completely. On April 16, 2007, in the town of Blacksburg Virginia, a college student who attended Virginia Tech, opened gunfire to his fellow classmates. This shooting has been considered to be the biggest massacre in all of American history. There are many things to be discussed in this major tragedy. Some of them include the events leading up to the shooting, the timeline that the shootings occurred, the causes, and the significance in this particular shooting. The Virginia Tech is only one of the several examples of the horrible behavior and violence in our school systems today.
I walked in and my stomach made a flip-flop like riding “The Scream” at Six Flags. Everyone was staring at me! With their curios eyes and anxious to know who I was. I froze like ice and felt the heat rise through my face. My parents talked to my teacher, Ms.Piansky. Then my mom whispered “It’s ti...
It’s 11:10 at Columbine High School. Two senior boys get out of their cars, each carrying a bulky, black duffel bag over his shoulder. One of the boys with spiky hair innocently waves to a cluster of pretty blonde girls. Nine minutes later gunshot fire pierces the air. A young girl, eating lunch with her friend, dies instantly when one of the killers’ bullets enters her skull. A teacher, after having saved as many students as possible, is reunited with his family and friends. With tears streaming down their faces, they ask him how he could have possibly survived, but it is as if the questions just bounce right off him. He cannot respond and he feels numb to the world around him. He is a victim of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.
In the town of Newtown, Connecticut on December 14, 2012, another very tragic school shooting occurred. Adam Lanza first began his shooting rampage by killing his moth...
When I got home that afternoon, I turned on the television to see if there was anything on the newsMany of the local news stations were at the school, and they reported that there had been a bombthreat. This scared me. It had been only a mere ten months since the tragedy in Littleton, Colorado atColumbine High School. Even though I knew that it was most likely somebody just playing games, I stillhad to think of the worst. We were allowed to return to the school that evening to pick up our cars.
Nobody could have predicted the tragic events that occurred on April 20, 1999. Soon, the town of Littleton, Colorado would be the setting for the deadliest shooting in US history. Students, parents and teachers all started their day like any other; parents dropping off their kids at the high school and teachers preparing for another day of learning. Little did they know that in two hours, everyone’s lives will change forever. The massacre started at 11:30AM. The whereabouts was the Columbine High School as two gunmen wearing black trench coats and ski masks threw explosives as well as shooting students and staff – killing up to 23 (actual body count was 15) and injuring over 20 people. Gunshots were constant throughout the school, as both gunmen stalked and terrorized the other students.
Of course, the fear of failure kept popping in my head and I couldn't get rid of it.Sluggishly, I made my way to the entrance of the courthouse. As I reached for the door, I let out a sigh of worry. I moseyed down the stairs trying to stall as long as possible. All that I could picture was the instructor with dark, slanted eyebrows that made a wrinkle between his two critical eyes.
Groups of teenagers huddled together and spoke in hushed tones, debating what to do. Teachers came into the hall and ushered us to class, emptying the halls. I sat in my first hour plotting what to do to save myself from punishment. Obviously I couldn’t delete the photos since they were already in possession of the police, but maybe I could create a different picture of that night to save myself. The principal, Mr. Downs, called an assembly immediately during morning announcements. People’s faces who were at the party drained of color and many left class and went home. Whispers floated through the hall during the seemingly long walk to the gym, “What do we do? Should we lie? Can we say we were not really
I stood there, in front of Sofia, my advisor’s seven year old daughter, watching her turn red from the chin up to her forehead. My first thought was that she would just cough and the Lifesaver, ironically enough, that she had been previously enjoying would fly out, and she would be fine. However, there I stood with my roommate, friend, my advisor’s twin boys, and Sofia, still choking. I was suddenly overcome with a sense of actual deep fright. I had felt a twinge of this feeling a couple times in my life: a horror movie, a haunted house, a practical joke from a friend, but this was different. This was complete and utter helpless fear. I looked to my roommate and friend and could tell they were not feeling any safer than I. Something in my body took over and I stepped to the bed that formerly held a bouncing, gleeful little girl, and now, within seconds, was the place in which would determine the majority of my thoughts for the rest of my life.
It was a dark and gloomy October 16th. The 5th graders at GreenHawk Elementary School were going on a field trip. It was pelting rain, dark gray clouds, and foggy air, but the field trip would continue. It was time to be let out of school and onto the busses. All the students packed their bags and started towards the exit. Suddenly, the lights started to flicker and a gray, face shaped figure, faintly appeared on the wall. “Don’t go”, said the figure. “DON’T GO”, it said again. The teachers just laughed and claimed it was a prank. But Eve, one of the students, wasn’t so sure. As all the kids continued towards the bus Eve looked back at the figure, but it was gone.
It was the second semester of fourth grade year. My parents had recently bought a new house in a nice quite neighborhood. I was ecstatic I always wanted to move to a new house. I was tired of my old home since I had already explored every corner, nook, and cranny. The moment I realized I would have to leave my old friends behind was one of the most devastating moments of my life. I didn’t want to switch schools and make new friends. Yet at the same time was an interesting new experience.
It was a gloomy Tuesday despite the fact that it was late August. I had missed the first day of school because I always hated the idea of introductions and forced social situations during those times. I hated my particular school ever since I started as a freshman the