Wilson Elementary

 

I remember, one minute I was on the swing seeing how high I could go and the next thing I knew I was lying on my back, looking up at the sky, and I couldn’t breathe.

All the wind had been knocked out of me.  I couldn’t breathe in, and I had nothing in my lungs to breathe out.  I was in a state of panic.   I could actually feel each heartbeat.  I wondered if this was to be the end.  Is this how I go?

No, it couldn’t be.  My life wasn’t flashing before me.  I wasn’t seeing anything, but the top of the swing set and the sky.  Then my hearing seemed to come back.  Other voices around the playground were coming into focus.  No, not focus.  Well, you know what I mean.  I could hear them again.

I tried to remember losing my grip on the swing.  How was it that I just fell off?  Suddenly looking down at me was a policeman, then kneeling beside me was a paramedic.  How was this possible, I wondered.  Then I could hear the sirens.  Had they been there all along?

The paramedic was telling me not to move. (as if I could) and the cop had a look of concern, like he wasn’t looking at some kid who had just fallen from the playground swings.  “You’ve been shot.” he said.  From my peripheral vision I could see other kids running.

Not sure why, but I immediately thought back to the lunchroom lady.  She had offered me a second cookie.  I should have said yes.

I wrote this yesterday and was going to add to it later today, but I don't think I will.  Although writing it was fun, the topic of a school shooting isn't really a pool I want to dip my toe into.  It isn't fun or entertaining or light hearted.  So I'll leave it for the newspaper and tv journalists.  They seem to enjoy splashing around in that aspect of life.  I'm going to just grab my towel and head to the shower.

Maybe I'll even toss this pen out.  I don't like where it was headed.

zc