Gray. There is nothing but gray. A thin cover of light gray clouds blanket the sky, eclipsing the sun and stealing warmth from the earth. Dark blue-gray waves of the ocean relentlessly hurl themselves against the gray stony cliffs of the beach, and the air smells of gray, salty seawater. Even the dead grass seems to have turned gray, as if what little life it had left was drained away. The world is bleak, hard, and cold, much like the gray tombstone I stand before on top of the cliff.
I kneel down on the dead grass and lightly run my hand over the engraved words: Here Lies Karen Halloway, Beloved Daughter and Friend, 1996-2014. She always loved it here; the beach was her sanctuary. Whenever the sun was shining, we would spend hours lying on the sand or taking a swim. Here, we were always happy. The beach would never be the same, though. It’s as if when Karen died, the whole world died along with her, including the beach and the joy it brought me. She was the sun that brought warmth to the earth, and without her dazzling light, everything seems lifeless.
It was only a month ago that my best friend had been taken from me. Only thirty-one days have passed since we were talking and laughing in the school hallway. I can still hear her laugh, light and sweet, like a small bell ringing. I can also still hear the thunderous pops and the bloodcurdling screams of students as they scattered in all directions. Panic took hold of everyone like a rampant disease as the horrifying sound of gunshots continued. I couldn’t see anything past the mob of my terrified peers. Pop! Pop! Figures began dropping to the floor like rocks. Pop! Pop! Blood was everywhere. Pop! Pop-pop! Agonized screams shattered my ears. The fire alarm stared wailing. I clapped my hands over my ears, but it did little to block out the chaos swirling around us. Pop-pop! Pop! Pop-pop-pop!
“KAREN! COME ON!” I shouted over the commotion. I grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the sound of gunshots. My heart pounded as I plowed past the other students, Karen right at my heels. As I weaved my way through the hallways, I didn’t pay attention to where I was going; the only things I could think about were escaping the escalating nightmare and keeping Karen with me. I failed to do both.
I don’t know how it happened, but somehow we got separated. While I ran ahead, she probably got lost in the crowd. She is—was—fairly petite and wouldn’t have been able to push her way through the frantic students.
“Julia!” I heard her scream behind me. “JULIA!” Her voice still rings in my head today: loud, terrified, and clear as crystal. I immediately whipped around and shouted out to her, but she was nowhere in sight. Pop! Pop! Students kept knocking into me as they hurried past.
“Karen? KAREN! KAREN, WHERE ARE YOU?” Diving into the stampede of people, I searched desperately for her. “KAREN!” I stood there and frantically looked around at the faces flying by. Suddenly, a big, beefy football player knocked me into a vending machine as he fled. Pain shot through my back and head, and I crumpled to the floor. My chest heaved up and down and my heart continued to pound as I flinched away from the pairs of legs that threatened to trample me. I scooted around to the side of the vending machine so I was out of the way. Minutes passed as I sat there trying to collect myself. I was panicking and confused, unsure of what to do. I probably should have gotten up and ran out of the school, but I was paralyzed with fear. I just sat there hiding like a coward.
Suddenly, I realized that it was unnaturally silent in the hallway, and I held my breath as if making even the slightest sound would seal my doom. The hair on my arms stood up on end as I cautiously glanced around the vending machine. There was nobody else in sight.
Now is my chance, I thought. I got up and carefully made my way towards the nearest exit of the building, and the whole time I felt exposed and vulnerable. Sirens sounded off in the distance, and I was relieved that this whole nightmare would soon be over. How naïve I was to think it would end once the killer was caught. A nightmare never ends when it’s your reality.
As I approached an intersection of two hallways, Karen’s face flashed through my mind. My feet halted in their place. I had to find her; she could still be in danger. I took a step back towards the way I came.
Pop-pop!
A bloodcurdling shriek erupted from my lips as bullets flew past me, missing the back of my head by millimeters. I turned around for a split second and saw the shooter standing a little ways down the hall. The barrel of the gun was pointed right at me and I turned to run. Suddenly, a figure pushed me out of the way just as I heard several gunshots. I crashed to the floor and gazed up at Karen, who now stood where I had been, blood seeping through her shirt and turning it crimson. She collapsed to the floor and my stomach disintegrated.
“Karen!” I cried.
My surroundings seemed to fade as I crawled towards her, hot tears blurring my vision. I forgot about the shooter, and I didn’t notice the policemen rush into the hallway, ordering the shooter to drop the weapon. Nor did I hear the exchange of gunfire. All I could focus on was Karen. I pulled her head into my lap and sobbed. She gazed up at me, tears streaking down her face as she choked on her own blood. I still can’t get that picture out of my head.
The light began to fade from her eyes, and I shook her, screamed at her, begged her not to leave me. I screamed and screamed and screamed until I felt like my vocal chords would burst. Then Karen went limp in my arms. I crushed her body against mine and bawled into her golden-brown hair.
The world around me snapped back into focus when a policeman, whose face was distorted behind my tears, tried to take Karen away from me. I held her tighter and turned away from him. He attempted to pry my arms off of her, but I kicked him, slapped him, bit at him, and screamed, “No! No! NO!” over and over again. He knew I was not going to let her go, and he couldn’t bring himself to take her away from me. Instead, he wrapped his strong arms around me, quelling my violent outburst with a comforting embrace. There was no comfort, though, for what I had endured—for what we had endured. There still isn’t. All we can do now is mourn together and try to recover. We never will; you just can’t completely recover from something like this. But trying gives us something to work for, something to keep us from sinking into the black abyss.
Seventy students and staff members had been shot that day, and of those seventy, thirty-six were lost to us forever. My best friend was one of them. It should have been me. I should be the one buried six feet in the ground with a rock over my head, but Karen sacrificed herself for me. The only thing I can do is honor her memory and live the life she has given me. I must live for her, though the pain and the weight of my guilt will never subside. Life doesn’t wait for anyone, and I must do what we all must do: stay strong and carry on.