“Today’s weather is looking like mid-20s to low 30s with a windchill of 14 degrees.” said the weatherman enthusiastically. 

“How can anyone be so happy when something so terrible just happened,” I think to myself. I was almost jealous of how happy he was. I wish I was that happy, but I don’t think I can ever be happy. Not after the things I saw. Not after what happened. 

“And up next we have Malia Rogers to describe the fatal shooting that occurred last month at our beloved Fenway High School,” she said. 

Then I’m up, up in front of what feels like millions of cameras. But I don’t feel excited like most people would, or even nervous. I feel numb. Numb and cold. 

“So what do you remember, if I may ask?” said the woman. 

“Well,”  I choke out. “It all started on a regular day. Nobody expected anything. Or at least I didn’t. At first, the building was dead silent. Then alarms went off throughout the building saying ‘An unwanted citizen is in the building! An unwanted citizen is in the building!’ The alarm just repeated itself over and over again. It was probably one of the scariest moments in my life! Because the only thing that anyone could hear was that alarm. Not gunshots, not footsteps, only the beating of our own hearts and that alarm.” 

“I can imagine how scary that was for you,” she said sympathetically. 

“Yeah, it was really scary! But not quite as scary as when we heard the gunshots. We were in room U. It’s on the edge of the west side of the school so the gunshots that we heard were only distant. But we could still hear them. The most terrifying sound of all was the screams. The sound of those screams literally made my heart stop. I can’t even begin to explain the absolute terror that coursed through my veins. You could hear the pain, anguish, terror, and sadness in their voices. When I heard those screams the thought of losing not only my life but the lives of people that I loved hit me hard, and that thought was the scariest part of all.”

“So Malia, what was your first reaction when the intruder got nearer?  What was going through your head?”

“When the gunshots got closer and the screams got louder all my heart did was beat faster and faster. First I grabbed the two people who were closest to me, even though I didn’t know who they were at the time, and we ran. We ran into the Art room and immediately locked the door. We were trying so hard not to be found that once we got into the room we kept the lights off. All we did for the first ten seconds was stumble in the darkness trying to find a safe place. After our eyes had adjusted we all hid in different places, hoping that the shooter wouldn’t find us. Hoping that he or she would spare our lives.” 

 “Who was with you while you were hiding?” she asked.

“Davis Kollins, and Gianna Harris.”

“Can you explain more about those individuals for me?” the interviewer prodded.

“Well, we all have become great friends over the past couple of weeks. Especially, me and Gianna. I lost my cousin Micah in the shooting, and Gianna was really good friends with him. So she’s always over at our house cooking, cleaning, hugging, and crying with all of us. Another thing about Gianna is she notices everything! Whenever I’ve had a bad day she’s always the first to notice. Even if I’ve only shed one tear she’s always the first to ask me if I’m okay.“

“Davis, on the other hand has put up a wall. He can listen to me bawl my eyes out forever, but he doesn’t like to show his feelings or talk about them. You see Davis was also good friends with Micah. They would spend hours laughing and talking. Most people thought that they were brothers because they were with each other so much. After Micah died Davis just isn’t the same. Without his other half, Davis just doesn’t function the same way.”

“Did you lose anyone else in the shooting?” asked the interviewer. 

 Immediately my eyes started to fill with tears. Of course I lost people. I lost friends, family, and even admired teachers. They’re all gone now, and they aren’t coming back.

“Yeah, I did,” I said matter of factly still trying to stay strong and keep at least a fraction of my dignity. 

“I’m so sorry that was rude of me to ask!  It’s fine if you’d like to end your interview now.” the interviewer said embarrassed. 

“No, I’ll be fine. I just want to say one more thing.” I said while staring directly into the cameras.

“Of course whatever you need.” said the woman kindly.

“I just wanted to say to all of the students that attend Fenway High School that I’m here. I’m experiencing the same stuff you are. I know how it feels. I know how it feels to lose someone you love. Not being able to say that last sorry, or I love you, or goodbye. I know that these next couple of months and even years are going to be hard. But I’m here if you ever need me I’ll always be here for you. Because I know the pain, the absolute pain of losing a loved one. It will be okay! I promise. Even though it may not feel like that now, I promise you that it will get better! Life’s going to throw you around, try and beat you up, and it will. But you have to be strong. Be strong for those kids who died. Be strong for all those who you lost, and be strong for yourself, and things will get better. Slowly but surely they will get better. I promise!” And with a slight smile and tears silently rolling down my cheeks my interview was over.

“Thank you again Malia for joining us in this sensitive time. You have inspired many of us, including myself,  with not only your words but also because of your actions in this recent tragedy,” she said 

“Thanks” I replied with tears still in my eyes. “Thank you for your time, and thank you for letting me be here!” and with that, I was gone. Ready for the long drive home where I could reflect on the things that I had said. Where I could cry my eyes out and nobody would notice. Not even Gianna.