Robbed at Ten
“They are just little kids. They don’t know how to
protect themselves. Give me a gun and some body
armor, and I’ll go in myself!”--a parent in Uvalde.
We were watching a movie, some dumb educational
thing about bullying.
Bang, pop, bang, pop, pop, pop, pop!!!
What was that? I asked.
I don’t know, my teacher said.
Thunderous gunfire erupted next door.
Children, get under the tables and pretend to be dead!
We all dove for the floor. I could see the adjoining door
open and the legs of the shooter entering. My
teacher turned to face him, and was shot three times.
I closed my eyes. Jesus I thought. The gunman said
nothing; his rifle did the talking. He sprayed the room,
braaat, braaaat, pop-pop-pop-pop.
I was hit four times, three times in the legs, and once
in my left arm. I went into shock. Some of us
screamed, but the AR-15 led the conversation.
I could see the clock. It was over in three minutes. I
heard him reloading his clip.
The windows exploded as four more shots rang
The police were firing at the gunman. He returned fire
with a lethal barrage. The cops retreated. He popped
in a fresh clip from his back pack, and shuffled back
into the other classroom. I dialed 911.
This is 911, what is your emergency?
I whispered: We have a shooter at Robb Elementary,
and he is killing us all--and I hung up. My teacher lie
near me. He was still alive too. The gunman was
shooting at the cops from the other classroom. I
glanced around the room. It looked like the floor of the
slaughterhouse our class had visited. I tasted vomit. I
could hear the shooter pacing.
The police will breach our rooms any minute now, and
take down this son of a bitch. If I get medical attention,
I may survive.
But the breach never came. All I could hear was the
gunman pacing and whistling. I lie there forever. I
began to shiver, and my legs went numb. I was
bleeding a lot, with blood pooling all around me.
Some of us were still alive. There was a low moan,
whimpering and whispering for Mommy. I could see
the clock. It had been an hour since the last shot. I
could feel myself slipping into darkness, dying quietly.
I could hear the voices of children in the netherless,
the misty void. I rushed toward the light. I emerged
into a sunny day at the beach. I was met by three girls
I knew. They were giggling, and had bright ribbons in
their hair. We held hands and headed toward the
welcoming waves. The white sand was warm on my
bare feet. Gulls sang hosannas. We joined the rest of
the Robb kids who were splashing in the shallows.
Chicks who are nest-bound
are easy prey for rooks and hawks;
I weep for them all.
Poswted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub