D.C Sniper

                October 7^th, 2002. Crowds of 12, 13, and 14 year olds rushing and whispering. A windy, overcast day, a day you wake up with a feeling of uneasiness. We are rustled in the dark of Benjamin Tasker Middle school’s gym as we enter for our morning classes. “What’s going on” is said here, “he’s dead” said there, whose dead? Entering my class, my teacher with her face in her hands, a sob she tries to resist, a sense of strength she’s trying to find, but finally it’s uncontrollable. Outside of my algebra class the bloodstains, the ambulances, the endless cop cars surround the entrance of our school. A young life robbed from my very school? The D.C Sniper, attacked us? That’s not supposed to happen to us. So young so innocent, but now so lost, and helpless. Then, the news. He survived! Critical care but he’s one of the “lucky ones”. How lucky can you be in a situation such as this?

The safe haven we are suppose to see as our school is now a desolate building to which our parents are wary to send us back. How do you come back from a moment that was so viciously taken from you? The nightmares, the looks over your shoulder while you rush into a place you resist coming to in the first place.

October 24, 2002 a day of reverence. The D.C sniper and his accomplice were caught. A slow sigh of relief, a moment you can never forget, but now a time where you can at least try.

Point: Every day is a gift, do not take them for granted.