Sitting there. I stare out into the distance while raindrops go down the window. It's night and i'm sitting in my room. Looking into the darkness of the outside world, it's quiet. As the hills go by and the rain comes down, all I can think about is our world. Everything around me. The place in which we live. How corrupt and cruel everything has become. I'm just another kid out of millions around the world witnessing this. Lives being torn apart by the horrible things happening. I’m not going to bore you with another story about a sad little girl who wants things to be better. No, my story is different. It's a story about me, Annabel, who doesn’t want things to be better, who makes things better. I’m only twelve, but you don’t have to be old to know that the injustice around us is wrong. This is my story.
It was a cold December and I was sitting on the soft couch in the living room. The fireplace was on heating up the cold room. I sat there looking at my phone. My mom was sitting close by on the couch scrolling through her tablet looking at emails and such. The news is on TV. With it being the holiday season, you would think there would be joyful events like parades and light shows to talk about on the news. But there wasn’t. While on my phone I hear the TV and look up. The news reporter is talking about the recent shooting at a school. I usually don’t hear this type of stuff very often, so I decide to watch.
Several innocent kids died because some horrible, heartless person decided to take the lives of innocents. The man who shot them was now in jail. He had been sentenced to life in prison or something like that. As the reporter lists the names of kids who passed and shows pictures of them being happy with their families, a tear runs down my face and lands on the couch. My heart froze. I sat there paralyzed staring at the TV in sadness. I have never really been affected by stories like this before, but hearing about this happening to kids really scared me. Sitting there speechless I keep watching. The news shows the children's families and what they had to say about the tragedy. Most were too sad to speak, others could barely get a sentence out before bursting into tears. My mom watched also and almost cried as well.
Trying to hold back my tears I ask my mom, “ why would someone do this to those poor kids?”
She told me that some people in this world aren’t as nice as you and me. Some don’t care about the feelings of others. Cruel people kill others for their own pleasure. I got up and sat by her for comfort. Usually things like this don’t happen or that I had heard of. She went on saying how she didn’t know why people would do things like this.
After a moment of silence between us I got up and sat in my bedroom with this in my head. Aren’t we always supposed to be thankful for what we have and who cares for us? Those poor families out there have to spend the rest of their lives thinking about their passed child. I couldn’t even believe that something like this could happen at a school, especially an elementary school. Those poor kids are young and defenseless. They would never hurt anyone so they wouldn’t expect anyone to hurt them.
That night I didn’t get much sleep. I laid awake staring at the ceiling thinking about the poor kids whose lives were cut short by some heartless person. Finally I was so tired that I fell asleep.
It’s morning, I wake from my few hours of sleep and walk into the kitchen to find my mom reading something that looked like an article on her tablet. I go to the fridge to grab some milk and asked my mom what she was reading. She told me to come over to her so she could show me. She told me that it was a poem about the recent shooting at the elementary school. I leaned in to see the poem as she read aloud. The poem told that all of the kids killed are now all together with no pain. That we shall remember them for who they were, not for what happened to them. Also that the victims are not gone if we remember them. We must celebrate and honor them. It went on, each sentence sadder than the last. Holding back my tears once again I told her how sad I thought it was. Hearing that really made me mournful. I tried to go back to what I was doing and continued to pour myself a glass of milk.
Some hours went by and it was now the afternoon. I kept trying to occupy myself with happy things like books, games, and anything else that could take my mind off of the sad subject. Nothing worked. Everything I saw reminded me of the tragedy. How could some heartless person do something so terrible. Finally I knew I wouldn’t be able to forget about this.
I went to my mom who was making lunch in the kitchen. She was by the stove putting spaghetti into bowls for us. I asked her if we could talk and she set our lunch on the table for us. I sat at a chair on the opposite side of the table than her. I told her that I couldn’t get the thought of those poor kids out of my head. I wanted to do more then feel sorry for them. My mom told me that all we can do now is spread love to the families of the children. That gave me an idea.
   After we were done eating I went into my room and shut the door. I knew that I couldn’t do anything for the kids now that they are gone. So I wanted to something special for the people affected. I sat down at my desk, grabbed colorful paper and got to work. I was inspired by mom and the poem she told me to make something. Something that could help the hurt families get through this. I used scissors, glitter, and anything I could find around the house to make cards. Not just any cards. Cards that could make the families feel like they aren’t alone. That they don’t have to go through all of this alone.  Each card said, “things will get better, just know that we are all here for you, that everyone is here for you. Remember the good times you had, not the bad. Your love will always be with them and theirs with you.”
I sent a letter to each of the families affected. I got the addresses from the previous news report online. The cards got there not long after I sent them. I know because I got letters back inviting me to their holiday parties and gatherings to thank me in person for the cards I sent. I went to as many as I could. There they thanked me along with my mom for our generosity. Each act of generosity towards someone else can make a difference in your life and in someone else's.
As things start to settle down and a while went by, I still remember those kids. Their families expressions when we gave them the cards were unforgettable. They were so happy that you felt it. They were thankful and it moved them to tears. I will never forget that. I might only be twelve but I have done a lot more than others older than me.
As I sit here looking at the window thinking about this world, I still think of the bad things but always remember that the good things we do over power the bad. Maybe I didn’t stop the criminals in this world or stand up against them, but I stood with others that believe we can do more to change this world. I haven’t changed it yet but maybe in the future I will. After all we can’t change what happened in the past, but we can make a brighter future.