It started as a busy day for me; I had an exam that morning, I went to classes, I had homework to do. It was supposed to be a normal Monday.
I was in the lounge texting my friend for help on my homework that I was cramming to finish before my club meeting that night.
One group chat was going off and off. There’s a shooter on campus. There’s already 11 victims. Wait no two people are dead. There’s three shooters. Wait no it’s one. I get the email. I download a police scanner and listen in. I made eye contact with the only other girl in the room, both of us receiving the email and many many texts.
I speed-walked back to my dorm. My two roommates were in the living room joking around, another one was in the bedroom. I was the one to tell them that there’s a shooter, that this isn’t another one of those emails.
We locked the doors and closed the blinds, turned off all the lights, and hid ourselves in the bathroom.
For 4 hours we sat there. 4 hours of near silence. 4 hours of us listening to the police scanner with our earbuds. 4 hours scared for any noise we could hear. 4 hours of rapid texts messages and misinformation.
Hearts dropping when we hear over the scanner about a dorm that a friend lives in. Chills when we heard a potential bomb threat behind Owen not even 100ft away from us that was later proven false.
People I haven’t heard from in a long time texting me asking if I’m okay. Group chats turned into streams of information and safety checks.
4 hours of this. 4 hours of adrenaline pumping in my veins and unable to move.
I am just one of the many lucky students who share similar stories from that night. Please don’t let more students have a story like mine.