“I walked around the venue, trying to find a spot in the crowd. Then, we heard it. ‘GUN!’ Screams erupted. My friend and I shared a mutual look of terror before breaking into a sprint. Adrenaline carried us. Police officers ran towards us, guns pulled. ‘Keep your heads down!’ In the end? It was a popped water bottle. But I will remember it as if it were real because, in that moment, it was.”
“I don’t know what sound came out of me, but I know I started screaming, shaking. I ran to the bathroom and sat on the floor for about half an hour before I could even stand up. Students put posters in their friends lockers with sweet notes. My ‘Get Well Soon’ poster comments were ‘Hope You Die’ and ‘Don’t Come Back.’ That month changed everything, including my innocence.”
“They had their back turned for just one second, and my oldest son came on the porch yelling for them. They ran in and found the lamp laying on the floor next to my son, bleeding. Later that night, people messaged me questioning the type of wounds my son had. I hadn’t thought much of it until others pointed out how much it looked like a dog had attacked him. The doctors agreed. By this time, my son’s eyes were swollen shut.”
“My ex and I got into an argument. I remember looking at him, and it hit me. I was looking at a stranger. I didn’t know who I was. I pleaded for God to give me a sign. Moments later, I heard sirens. I knew they were coming to our house. I looked out the window and saw 2 firetrucks screeching to a stop. I ran downstairs as fast as I could towards the pounding on the door. Before I could get a word out, the man told me, ‘We got a call that someone has overdosed.'”
“My son was limp and blue, an umbilical cord choked around his neck. My face was so swollen my eyelids were turned upside down. I heard whimpers, more gushes. I called out to my husband. His voice weakly managed, ‘I love you’ as I was wheeled out of the room. He was left sitting on the hospital room floor, in a pool of my blood. The family my husband and I had always dreamed of was now painfully impossible.”
“Not even my mom could deny there was actually something wrong with me. She rushed my calamine-soaked body to the doctor. My eyes got as big as sand dollars and my life flashed before my eyes. The only time I had ever heard of a Scarlet Fever diagnosis was on an episode of ‘Little House on the Prairie.’ I didn’t know what to do. So, I did the only thing I could think of in that moment. I cried. My mom slid into the bed next to me.”
“Her skin was scarred from the bombing. She had virtually no hair left. But all I could see were those big, brown eyes with extra-long eyelashes. As we waited at the gate and the plane arrived, the last passenger walked out and there was no Teeba. My heart sunk. There was no way I wasn’t going to answer this calling.”
“It was Christmas time. I’d just finished getting my tree and laid down when my brother called. ‘Mom passed.’ Time stopped. Silence. I instantly threw up. The next day, I drove home. The first thing I saw was her pile of presents. She’d wrapped them and when she finished, she sat down and never got up again. I wish I could’ve thanked her, told her how much her words meant to me. I thought I had more time but, out of nowhere, time ran out.”
“Our backyard neighbor squeezed the trigger. The bullet traveled over 200 yards to our home, crashed through our back window, and continued across our living room. My postpartum body was weak, but I dragged myself to Justin’s side. Overnight, I became a shell of the person I once was. Later, my friend tried to set me up on a date. ‘Will he think I don’t love Justin anymore?’ We immediately hit it off. ‘Hey Jess,’ he said, ‘It’s so good to see you.’ I hope my son will grow up to be like both of my husbands.”
“The tears were streaming down my face as I faced this man, the love of my life, my soulmate. Our marriage hasn’t been easy. It hasn’t even been hard. It was impossible. I spent years in a haze of prescription drugs, lying, manipulation and selfishness. I broke the law, put my children in danger, stole money from church and our personal account to fund my addiction. He had no choice but to take our 3 children and leave.”
