Flashing blue and red lights glared at me from a distance. The more I approached, the more I saw, the less I wanted to know. My slow, hesitant pace forced my racing thoughts to get there before me: “What happened?”, “Who was it?”, “Did someone die?”, “Is it someone I know?”, “Was it one of the people waiting at my bus stop?”, “Should I just turn around and go home?”.

Before I knew it, before I got to answer my own questions, I was right in front of bright yellow police tape. The sun had barely risen, but I was still able to see a couple of news reporters with their mics and cameras. I overheard them declare “Man in critical condition after shooting in Hartford”. Even though I had a feeling I knew what happened, hearing it made my thoughts race again: “What happened?”, “When did it happen?”, “Who was it?”. Those thoughts quickly turned into worries. “Is he okay?” “Did they catch who shot him?”“How is his family doing?” “Are they ok?” “Do they know yet?” Thinking of his family made me think of mine. I started to think about how my mom would react in this situation. I sighed, my eyebrows furrowing. Once again, I thought “should i just turn around and go home?” Then, an idea popped into my head: why don’t I just call her? I was hoping she'd get me and my thoughts together.

“Hello,” my mom groaned. It was clear I woke her up.

“Hi, someone got shot near my bus stop and now it's blocked off” I said bluntly.

“Are you ok?” Her voice rose.

“Oh no, it wasn't me” I blurted

“Well, I know that, but are you ok?” she repeated

“Oh, right, I'm fine”

“So, do you want me to pick you up?” 

“Oh no it's fine, I can go through myself, I uh, I just wanted to let you know, and to ask you what should I do?” I stammered, asking a question I already knew the answer to.

“Could you ask someone to let you through?” She suggested

“Yeah, I could; my stop is only a couple blocks forward” I gestured forward even though she couldn't see me “but I don't want to mess anything up”.

“Just ask first and see; you'll be fine” she reassured.

I did exactly what she told me to, with her still on the phone just in case, and, just like she said, everything was fine.

For weeks, as I walked to my bus stop, passing the same place not too far from my bus stop, I noticed blood stains on the pavement. The stains slowly began to fade but still, every time I was reminded of the harshness of my reality: I don’t live in a safe neighborhood, and every day, I take a risk walking to my bus stop. I’m at risk simply because I want to get my education, just because I want to amount to more than a negative headline or news story. But, more importantly, this incident highlighted all the positives of my reality: I’m alive and healthy; I have a mom who I can call at any moment for guidance and reassurance; I have a good, safe, reliable school to go to; and above all, one day my dedication to my education will lead to a positive outcome and I will amount to more.

So now, every time I wake up and don’t feel like going to school, I use this experience as motivation, and in the future, as an adult, whenever I feel like just “turning around and going home,”, I will remember this moment. I will remember that it taught me that persevering through difficult times is crucial and that the strength I found in middle and highschool will continue to guide me throughout my life.