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lemonadegirl4344 · 1 year

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So, I saw a billboard yesterday stating that June 2nd was anti-gun violence day. To all the Europeans out there I agree, it's insane we need to have it in the first place.

So, in honor of gun violence day, I'm going to write a very, very, VERY long-winded post of information I've gathered from various YouTube videos, documentaries, and interviews I've watched about how to survive active shooters.

I'm breaking down Run Hide fighting and Avoid Deny Defend and of course, A.L.I.C.E

First off ALICE and why I don't really like it that much. Am I qualified enough for my opinion to be valid? Probably not but for those of you who aren't college students whose colleges have implemented this ALICE stands for Alert, Lockdown, Inform, Counter, Evacuate.

Alert is for how a student learns of a threat. Once you have learned there is an active assailant, you asses the sitaution and if it's safe to get the hell out of dodge or instead go into Lockdown. Inform is informing the authorites about what's going on if it's safe to do so. I'm not going into details about the other steps as they are literally Run Hide Fight and Avoid Deny Defend which i'm getting into now.

Run/Avoid

So, one thing or another you've found yourself in an active shooter/assailant situation whether it be a school, shopping mall, store, courthouse, or even hospital! The first thing you do, is where are the shots coming from?

This might be hard and the first thing you must determine is if there is indeed a threat. Once upon a time, a Walmart that was way down the road from us had to evacuate because someone thought the sound of someone popping BUBBLE WRAP was gunfire. I mean, yeah we used to live in a bad city but what you are going to look for is repeated, loud, bangs akin to fireworks.

One bang? Something fell.

Multiple? And there's screams? People running? Yup, there's a shooter!

Now, first off back to the "where is the shooter" thing, it might be hard because shots echo but determining the rough location of the shooter will determine whether it's safe or if you need to run.

Everything I've watched has made things about this step clear on Running or Avoiding the attack. When you walk into the building, make a note of potential exits that isn't the main one you walked into. During the Aurora Colorado Movie Theater shooting people in the showrooms run through the halls (and into the path of the shooter) trying to get to the front exit ignoring/forgetting the emergency fire exits located in every showroom.

Oh, which reminds me. If for some reason the shooter is behind you or sounds like he is, run in a zig-zag pattern as it is significantly harder to hit a target that is moving side to side.

Hide/Deny

So, either the shooter is close by or you have determined that there are no available viable exit routes or options.

What do you do? You find a room (preferably with a locking door) and barricade yourselves in. Anything can make a suitable hiding place, things like closets, classrooms, and patient rooms in hospitals, don't get me started on the possible hiding locations in a courthouse. If the door opens inwards, you can barricade the door by placing desks or furniture on top of each other alternating between the right side up and upside down.

Only assist the injured if safe to do so, the few videos I've watched that have covered what to do in hospital settings have made it clear you do NOT help the injured unless it's safe to do so or the event is over. You can always come back to them and you can't exactly help them if you're dead.

If an option, you can place the tables or chairs in such a way that it stretches from the door to the wall.

I've seen videos demonstrating that if you're in a small one-toilet bathroom like the family bathrooms from the Walmart type deal you lay down, put your feet against the door, hands on the wall behind you, and push back essentially turning yourself into a human doorstopper and deny access to your location.

Make sure you also know the difference between cover and concealment. Concealment would be you hiding under a table or behind a chair, things that block the shooter's line of sight but not their bullets. Cover is things like concrete pillars, things that block both line of sight and bullets.

Back on barricading, door opens outwards? You can use a belt or tie or something like that to tie the mechanical arm on the inside together and pull it tight.

Meanwhile, you and any others in the room are looking around for any improvised weapons.

Books? Scissors? Potted Plants? Your own hands? All viable options. A lot of the videos i've seen demonstrated people straight up using a local fire extinguisher to either spray the foam in their eyes or better yet (and more effective) clocking them upside the head.

Whatever it is, you and the others need to make a plan for "what do i do if the shooter enters my safe space" which leads to...

FIGHT/DEFEND

The sound of the gunfire is getting closer and closer.

Maybe your door doesn't lock or it's not barricaded properly.

Whatever it is, the shooter is getting into your location and you need to act.

Like I've stated in Hide/Deny, you're going to want to start planning on this ahead of time before the shooter walks in.

You need to grab weapons, like I've said, literally ANYTHING can be used as such. Scissors, brooms, fire extinguishers, go all "An apple a day keeps anyone away if you throw it hard enough" on weapon philosophy.

You're going to want to talk it out with others in your room, decide who might throw stuff in the attacker's face as a distraction, which ones of you might run and physically hit him, which ones will wrestle the gun out of his hands, and which ones will pin him down and restrain him until the SWAT team gets there. The fight will be brutal and you WILL be defending your life; everything I've seen states one thing and that is you have the legal right to defend yourself. You might be in a fight to the death and who will it be? You? Or the attacker?

Your attack needs to hinge on surprise, hide behind a corner so you can jump out at them and catch them off their guard.

Critical spots you're going to want to aim for or the face or head. Yes, I am once again bringing up the idea of clocking them upside the head with a hard object, multiple times, what better way to take out the threat than to leave it unconscious with head trauma? If going for the face go for the eyes or nose.

Hell, stab their eye out with a fork in a fashion that belongs in the music video for Panic! At The Disco's Say Amen (or Black Butler), or break their nose and leave it shattered and bleeding.

While on the head, I think I once heard one tip that involves slamming your hands (like you're clapping and his hands are in between it) on his ears to discombobulate and disorient him.

Go for the groin, if male a hard enough kick (or someone even stabbing it) his manhood will dissorient him enough to dissarm him. If woman well, a kick to the groin still hurts too.

Knees make a good option to get the shooter down and on the floor. A hard enough kick or hit to the sides, front, or for maximum effectiveness, go for the back of them will send the shooter to the floor and most likely knock the weapon out of their hands.

Again, the fight will absolutely be tough but you also need to know it's either him or you and everyone else in that room.

After the attacker is disarmed, sit on him.

Place his hands on his back or if you have the people have them sit on the arms and hold both of them down.

Make sure you don't forget about the legs too, those need to be pinned.

And whatever you do, for the love of god DON'T PICK UP THE FREAKING GUN!!! (outside of maybe kicking it away or using a cloth to pick it up and put it in a trash can until SWAT arrives)

I remember very visibly one Run Hide Fight video (I think this one was published on a YouTube channel called eMotivate Media and the setting for this one was a courthouse) that should SWAT storm that room with that gun in your hands their training is to neutralize the threat... do you really wanna have multiple high powered rounds lodged inside your body? Yeah, that's what I thought so, or really what was the point of any of this?? Also, contamination of evidence.

So, I think I've got the basics of Run Hide Fight, and Avoid Deny Defend.

You've either run, hidden, or have fought off an active shooter.

Now, I'd like to direct your attention to a Sandy Hooks Promise video called "Evan"

Evan is a very bored teen. One day in the library he writes on his desk that he is bored.

Someone has carved back "HI BORED" and the teen writes back and forth with the stranger, communicating solely by desk carving but when he writes "WHO ARE YOU" and comes back the next day, the library is closed for the rest of the school year.

Oh no! Thankfully, the two find each other and laugh about it (and maybe fall in love) over their Yearbooks when they pick them up.

A fellow student walks in and starts shooting.

While we were focusing on Evan, you don't notice the student in the background reading gun magazines, or making violent gestures, or when Evan's scrolling through his social media and scrolling right on past a picture of the student posing with a couple of posters.

While focusing on Evan, you missed all the warning signs. And so, fellow Tumblr users I leave you with this.

Prevention is important, be kind to others, and please report any worrying behavior or possible signs of mental illness. Sometimes these shooters are just ill (most of them are not though, don't get me wrong, they absolutely know what they were doing) but if that mental health clinic had contacted James Huberty back when he was suffering from undiagnosed mental illnesses a few days before he suited up, looked at his wife on the sofa and said "I'm going hunting humans" before shooting up a McDonalds would it have happened?

If Charles Whittman, the Texas Tower Sniper merely had a psychiatrist or doctor listen to him and take him seriously when he was trying to seek help for these violent, sudden intrusive thoughts he had, would he have become known as the Texas Tower Sniper?

Now, don't get me wrong Charles Whittman absolutely knew what he was doing and could tell right from wrong, I also can't help but think of the big tumor they found in his brain that pressed right up against the area of the brain in a way that has been known to cause violent, impulsive thoughts on other recorded cases as well as the compulsion to write which we can tell from Charles's diaries he certainly had that. While some debate over whether or not the cancer affected his behavior or actions and while I think it doesn't absolve him of his actions... I mean, it's still a pretty sizeable tumor in his brain and anyone who has been through watching a relative with certain types of brain cancer will tell you that their personality just changes one day.

Be the help a potential shooter might be, don't become a maybe.

So which, I leave you with this quote.

"An active shooter event always starts as just another day"

#june 2nd #Anti-gun violence #orange #run hide fight #Avoid Deny Defend #Reblog if you wish to add anything #sandy hook promise #San Ysidro McDonald's Massacre #1966 University Of Texas Shooting #Awareness #Mental health awareness #Aurora Colorado Shooting #gun violence #active shooter #active shooter awareness #Uhg i forget ALICE #I really don't like ALICE #It's RHF and ADD with extra steps that are also out of order

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caffeinosis · 2 years

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American here: lockdown drills are to prepare if someone violent is in the building and everyone needs to clear hallways immediately and hide in a locked classroom/bathroom. The situation I remember us using was someone’s parent or an older boyfriend coming in to get them, getting angry when they had to go through collection protocols, and becoming violent (whether with weapons or not) and rushing through the office to abduct them. Lockdowns are also part of active shooter drills.

Worst part about it is that, in the drills, they announce what’s happening in the scenario over the loud speakers. In real life, we went into lockdown and nobody had no idea until phones started going off because everyone’s parents were texting to ask if they were safe and to tell them they loved them. The school called parents to say we were in lockdown because of a potentially unsafe situation (a girl had told someone she had her dad’s gun and was coming for them at school; she ended up getting stopped by police before she reached campus). Very cool to get those messages while doing homework in a classroom right in front of the entrance! The teachers weren’t allowed to update us until the girl was in custody and they finally opened the doors.

Anyway that’s way more information than you asked for, I’ve just been really fucking pissed because we just had a shooting at a nearby college and Republican politicians are wearing AR15 lapel pins everywhere while we average 1+ mass shooting per day and absolutely nothing is ever done about it. I’ve been in 5 separate situations where I thought I was about to be in a shooting, though that high school experience was the only one that turned out to be real. I’m 26 and I’ve been through so many lockdown/shooter drills and watched my teachers try not to cry while they explained how to break the windows and zigzag until we reached the woods and then sprint until we found a house to hide in. It’s fucking insane.

That sounds insane and terrifying, I'm sorry you had to go through that.

Yeah, we only had rudimentary fire/earthquake drills, about once a year. Which consisted of hiding under desks and then trying to calmly evacuate while the teachers yelled at us not to run down the stairs. Not sure how effective they really were. I don't think we have protocols to barricade inside classrooms, and our schools are old and decrepit so I doubt it'd be much help if anything happened.

To be honest, I can't fault you people for actually taking safety protocols seriously, especially in light of recent events. I remember once in high school, there was prank call about a bomb and the maths teacher wouldn't let us go out because we were taking a test, wtf. We were the last to evacuate the building. I mean, everyone knew it was a prank, but why take that risk?

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virginiaprelawland · 2 years

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Gun Reform Laws: Meant To Protect, Not To Infringe

By Elizabeth Wolnik, George Mason University Class of 2024

November 18, 2022

According to the National Education Association, the leading cause of death for children in America are guns [5]. In 2020 alone, 4,300 kids have died due to the use of firearms. Children are being taught active shooter drills in school and teachers are recognizing the necessity to protect their students in case a person with a gun threatens their safety. Students cannot learn if they feel unsafe or if they are dealing with the trauma of having been a part of an active shooter incident [5]. With school shootings becoming more prevalent as the years go by, it is important that we reevaluate our country’s firearm laws to prevent more children and educators from being killed.

In 2012, 20 children and six adults were killed at Sandy Hook Elementary school after a man named Adam Lanza entered the school and shot them before killing himself [2]. This occurred just minutes after Lanza had shot his own mother. This was one of the deadliest school shootings in U.S. history. Lanza’s mother Nancy had purchased an AR-15 and a .22 caliber rifle herself. These were the weapons Lanza used as well as several hundred rounds of ammunition stored in high-capacity magazines, on his mother, the children, the adults at the school, and eventually himself. After killing his mother, Lanza drove her car to Sandy Hook and shot through a window next to the school’s locked security door. Once he was inside the school, Lanza was promptly confronted by the principal, Dawn Hochsprung and the school’s psychologist, Mary Sherlach, both of which Lanza killed immediately [2].

The school instantly went into a lockdown, and teachers began to hide their students into closets and bathrooms, blocking the doors with heavy furniture or even their own bodies [2]. Lanza entered Lauren Rousseau’s classroom and killed her as well as her 14 students. He then went into the classroom of Victoria Soto. Soto had hidden her students in a closet and attempted to redirect Lanza by telling him that her class was in the school’s auditorium on the other side of the building. Lanza ended up killing Soto as well as six of her students who had tried to escape. Adam Lanza fired 154 rounds in less than five minutes of entering the school, ultimately claiming 26 lives. Officers received an emergency call just five minutes after Lanza had entered the school. The officers who responded to the call found Lanza outside of Victoria Soto’s classroom dead of a self-inflicted gunshot wound. The children Adam Lanza had killed were only six or seven years old. Sandy Hook Elementary school was demolished and rebuilt in 2014 [2].

One of the more recent school shootings was labelled the deadliest shooting ever at a Texas public school [4]. At Robb Elementary School in Ulvade, Texas on May 24, 2022, 18-year-old Salvador Ramos entered the school and killed 19 students and two teachers. 376 law enforcement officers showed up at the scene, but it was so disorganized that the chaos lasted more than an hour. The group was lacking communication, leadership, and urgency to take down the gunman. Not a single officer stepped up to act as commander, even though the district’s active shooter response plan stated that the district police chief will “become the person in control of the efforts of all law enforcement and first responders that arrive at the scene.”. Pete Arredondo, the Ulvade Consolidated Independent School District Police Chief, said that he did not consider himself the incident commander, even though he co-authored the active shooter response plan. He has since been placed on administrative leave for his actions. Officers who tired to enter the school to confront Ramos retreated immediately after coming under fire. Lieutenant Javier Martinez from the Ulvade Police Department attempted to confront Ramos in the hallway of the school, but since no officers followed him as backup, he retreated. After the incident, law enforcement officers stated that if they had followed Martinez as backup, they might have been able to take down Ramos sooner. Eventually, border patrol agents breached the school without consulting Arredondo and killed Ramos. Robb Elementary was known for having inadequate school security. Many employees would just leave doors locked and even propped open since there was a shortage of keys at the school. Because of this, Ramos was easily able to scale a short fence surrounding the school and enter through an unlocked door [4].

Ramos’ family now recognize that there were many warning signs he was displaying [4]. Ramos, a high school dropout, was able to stockpile military-style rifles, accessories, and ammunition by having his uncle drive him to the guns store since Ramos could not drive. His family was fully aware that he was buying guns but did not think anything dangerous would come of it. A year before the Robb Elementary shooting, Ramos had earned the nickname “school shooter” after making violent threats on social media. Because of Ramos’ strained relationship with his parents, they were never under the impression that their son was unstable and in the process of planning a violent attack [4].

These are just a few of many school shootings that have become too common in the United States. There has been an increase in bills proposed to Congress as well as emphasis to improve public school security. The Assault Weapons Ban of 2013 sought to prohibit the sale of more than 150 specific firearms as well as magazines that were capable of holding more than 10 rounds of ammunition [2]. However, this bill was defeated 60-40 in the Senate. Another bill proposed that criminal background checks be required for selling firearms, but this too was defeated in the Senate. Because there weren’t any laws being passed concerning federal gun reform at the time, nine families of the Sandy Hook victims filed a suit against Remington, which was the manufacturer of the AR-15 Adam Lanza used. The families argued that Remington had knowingly marketed their products to troubled young men like Lanza. After many years of litigation, Remington finally settled with the Sandy Hook families for $73 million [2].

The Texas Education Agency has recently announced proposals that would enforce public schools to install automatic locks on their exterior doors and silent panic alarms [3]. Other aspects of this proposal include inspecting doors on a regular basis to ensure that they can lock and be opened from the outside with a key only, testing two-way emergency radios, and building a vestibule made of bulletproof glass in schools for visitors to wait in before entering the school. If this proposal is approved, the safety measures listed would begin being carried out in 2023. Until then, Texas has put aside $400 million for increased safety measures to be distributed among school districts and the education department has announced that they will be inspecting locks on the exterior doors of schools and reviewing every district’s school safety plan [3].

The proposed Congressional Act H. R. 7910, or the “Protecting Our Kids Act”, has recently passed the House and is on its way to the Senate for additional voting [1]. This act is seeking to amend Title 18, specifically the section on firearms. Those proposing this act are looking to increase the age limit on purchasing certain firearms, prevent gun trafficking, prohibit untraceable firearms, and encourage the safe storage of firearms. Another one of the main aspects of this act includes redefining what a “qualified individual” means in order to purchase a firearm. H. R. 7910 proposes that a qualified individual should be a member of the Armed Forces on active duty or be “a full-time employee of the United States, a State, or a political subdivision of a State who in the course of his or her official duties is authorized to carry a firearm.”. Section 402 of this act, entitled “Safe Guns, Safe Kids”, states that if a minor or a person who is ineligible to purchase a firearm under the law obtains a gun with intent to cause death or injury, then they are subject to be fined, imprisoned for no more than five years, or both. Section 402 of this act also encourages people to practice safe firearm storage by awarding grants to States and Indian Tribes that have implemented these practices well [1].

A new bipartisan bill has recently gained support from 64 senators [7]. This bill would add tolerable gun control rules and provide new funding for mental health and school safety programs. The bill includes $1 billion to be put towards efforts to maintain safe and healthy students throughout their education and training for faculty to recognize warning signs from students if they could potentially be a threat. A few senators made a statement about the proposed bill. They said, “Our legislation will save lives and will not infringe on any law-abiding American’s Second Amendment rights. We look forward to earning broad, bipartisan support and passing our commonsense legislation into law.” [7].

The issue of gun legislation reform is not a Democratic versus Republican battle. 97Percent is a bipartisan gun safety organization and has found through a recent study that 66% of gun owners are concerned about the United States’ high level of firearm violence [6]. More than 70% of gun owners want to help reduce gun injuries and death and to keep guns out of the hands of people at risk of violence. Policies such as requiring permits for the possession of a gun, implementing universal background checks, and changing the threshold for those convicted of a violent misdemeanor to be barred from purchasing guns could end up reducing gun homicides by up to 28% and suicide rates by more than 6%. The single most effective policy to prevent firearm homicides is to change the standard of disallowing people from purchasing a gun, like those convicted of a violent misdemeanor. More research shows that 78% of those who identify as Republican support banning people who have been convicted of domestic violence from owning a gun. 97Percent co-founder Adam Miller says, “The myth of an intractable divide on gun safety in our country is just that: a myth. We are proud to present this unique research that not only proves there is common ground, but also actually defines that common ground and offers a concrete path forward. Gun owners want to be a part of the solution to reduce gun violence, and any solution must include their perspective and expertise.” [6].

Reforming gun legislation has nothing to do with taking away people’s Second Amendment rights. Reforming gun laws has always kept at the forefront American citizen’s safety and protection. With the increased amount of school shootings and overall homicides in the country, it is important that we remember those at Sandy Hook, Robb Elementary, and many other schools who have died in unjust ways at the hands of those who should have never had access to guns.

______________________________________________________________

[1] https://www.congress.gov/bill/117th-congress/house-bill/7910/text#:~:text=Engrossed%20in%20House%20(06%2F08%2F2022)&text=To%20amend%20title%2018%2C%20United,firearms%2C%20and%20for%20other%20purposes.

[2] https://www.britannica.com/event/Sandy-Hook-Elementary-School-shooting

[3] https://www.texastribune.org/2022/11/04/texas-schools-add-panic-buttons-uvalde/

[4] https://www.texastribune.org/2022/07/17/law-enforcement-failure-uvalde-shooting-investigation/

[5] https://www.nea.org/gunviolence

[6] https://www.97percent.us/news/finding-the-common-ground-in-gun-safety-research

[7] https://www.chalkbeat.org/2022/6/22/23179231/congress-bill-uvalde-shoot-shooting-safety-security-mental-health

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yarpharp · 2 years

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I think it's horribly worrying how I am both deeply upset but absolutely emotionally empty in the face of this new shooting.

Like, I don't know what I should say anymore. Gun violence has been a problem since I was born, and I popped out into the world in the late 90s. When I was in high school, there was a gun threat and two active shooter incidents. I can remember when the gun threat had been discovered; we made national news for a hot second. Our school had been given a fucking date when the shooter planned to come. They left a note. My mom, being the woman she is, told me to "keep your knife with you and be prepared to drop and run." (Which, might I add, I was not allowed to have on a school campus but brought with me anyway). In the days leading up to the date, parents were pulling their kids out of class. One the day of... Jesus, I think over half of the student population has decided to stay home?

Then the fire alarm went off (which to any out-of-USA readers should know, we have different alarms for gun threats vs. fires) and Christ.... I watched every fucking kid I knew run for it. They all thought it was the active shooter alarm, and they hoofed it down the road. My friends and I had our bikes ready and waited at the edge of campus just in case it was actually not a fire but a gun event, but nope! Guess what? Our chem teacher burnt some popcorn in the rec room and set off the smoke alarm!! Because we were teenagers and questionably insane, we thought it was the funniest shit at the time.

But then we had an active shooter/runaway criminal causing chaos in the neighborhood and we were in lockdown. I was a TA for the art teacher at the time and it had been my job to be ready to lead an entire 60+ freshmen (14-15 year olds) through the back entrance of the building and out to the river. (Yes, my old high school is right next to a river. No joke.) A cop died in that altercation. Then later there was another active shooter, and it ironically took place during an on-campus celebration of surviving the last two gun-related incidents! And yet again I was the TA in charge of a very hysterical gaggle of freshmen we had sprinted to the art building for shelter. I locked the doors myself. Me and this other TA (he was for ceramics, I was for general art) gorilla-glued a five inch ceramic plate over one of the tiny glass windows in the doors.

And I shit you not, while I was trying to keep everyone calm, a PTA mom had been possessed to walk to every classroom door she could locate with a trolley of donuts and demand entry so she could feed us "in this tense time." No joke. This rando mom in her thirties was SLAMMING HER FISTS AGAINST THE DOOR LIKE AN ANGRY INTRUDER AND DEMANDING ENTRY. The freshmen went apeshit. Both the art teacher and ceramics teacher were screeching at her from our side of the door. The PTA mom was spitting obscenities at us because "you are the seventh class to do this, what kind of fucking educators are you?!"

The shooter was apprehended. The PTA mom in question got sued and kicked off the PTA board. She was fucking lucky she hadn't gotten shot herself, or endangered and subsequently got students/teachers killed with her dumbass stunt. That entire episode had been so upsetting, I still get unimaginably angry at the vaguest memory of the PTA.

And fuck guys, my list goes on.

I live in a neighborhood where at least once a month I hear gunshots. I attended community college and one campus had an active shooter and two---maybe three?---people died in a parking lot? The college I later transferred to had an active shooter armed with a semi-auto (I have no idea how, I live in a state that bans those) and planned to massacre our very large campus but was stopped by campus police. An officer died to stop him from entering the campus. We had a gang-related shooting on a main street someplace downtown in my city barely a month and a half ago and it yet again made the national news for a hot second.

Gun violence is everywhere. It permeates so much of American culture and life. And if you don't think so, I think you're fucking crazy... Or you have your head so far up your ass you literally know nothing.

Here's a parting anecdote: I was in a student union (which also doubled as a cafeteria) with my friends in community college once. We were being our usual selves, making jokes and eating lunch. My group is exceedingly diverse, and we all come from vastly different parts of the city (and in two persons' cases, just outside the city).

Then we all hear this horribly loud CRA-BANG!

What did we do? What did the entire student union do?

Just about every single person immediately ducked down and hid. Only maybe a handful of people hadn't, and it was clear by the looks of them they came from the nicer neighborhoods in my city (and thus never had exposure to gun violence).

The actual source of that noise had been a student dropping their food tray at the perfect angle, and the high vaulted ceilings of the student union acted as the perfect echo chamber to make it sound very similar to a gunshot.

America is a battlefield, and I really wish I could leave it.

#gun violence #texas #story time #enjoy my gun trauma #i feel like if enough people understand just how much gun violence has become an almost predictively recurring problem #but most of the time all people get is a sensationalized circus show #good god guys just GIVE US GOOD FEDERAL GUN LAWS

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yellobb · 2 years

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When I was in fourth grade, I remember being ushered outside so we could spell out “VT” in the parking lot. I was told that there had been a shooting and 32 people had been killed. I was too young and sheltered to understand what any of that meant, but I knew it made my teacher sad.

When I was in sixth grade, I was getting changed for gym when I heard about Sandy Hook. I knew what was happening now, but hearing that children that young had been murdered in cold blood was a shock to the system. That’s the year I started panicking every time we had a lockdown drill because I was terrified that a gunman had made it into the building.

When I was a senior in high school, I went to my grandma’s house after school and saw the news that a gunman had murdered 17 people at a high school in Parkland. By now, I’d been through dozens of drills, and seen even more headlines about the newest tragedy. I went to DC that March to join the protest.

This year, I’m a junior in college. I go to Virginia Tech. I broke down in tears more than once this year because there were reports of suspicious activity or active shooting situations in the nearby area, and I was terrified that someone wanted to copy what the original shooter had done. It’s been fifteen years since the massacre. On its anniversary, I participated in the annual remembrance run, where people wore bibs with the names of loved ones they ran for. It was hard not to remember being in marching band and hearing that the mother of one of the victims was coming to watch us play and visit the Hokie bird statue we have in his honor outside our practice facility.

I’ve known for a while that nothing has changed. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve only gotten angry at the system we’re stuck in, where 18-year-olds can buy AR-15s because the words of the dead old white men are more important to the people who can actually change things than the lives of the hundreds of children who’ve been brutally murdered in the buildings where they’re supposed to be the safest. I get to listen to conservatives kick and scream about how violent video games and mental illness are the problem, even though almost every other country in the world has both of those things without the death toll.

We keep protesting and organizing and running for office, but it’s been 23 years since Columbine and the only significant change is how much more frequently school shootings occur. I just want to know - how many more lives have to be lost before something finally changes?

#m rambles #politics #tw: gun violence #tw: school shooting #long post #virginia tech #parkland shooting #sandy hook #columbine #uvalde #I just want to scream

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yuvon-augold79 · 3 years

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Hi!!

How are you?

This is the anon honestly hour thing, just curious about this, you can answer if you want to. What is a school/highschool memory which made you laugh till you cry and the school/highschool memory which made you super scared? I hope it's okay to ask this😅 A really short question, i know xD

Sorry😅 take care!

Hiya! I'm doing alright, hope you are too <3

Uhh, school memory that makes me laugh... not sure, actually XD Sorry. Not sure I have a memory like that.

Uh. For the school memory that made me scared... I'm gonna put this one under a cut.

(TW: gun mention, gun threat mention)

Yeah, so, my school went on lockdown once for one and a half hours right at the end of a school day, because someone posted a picture of a gun to social media and indicated they going to shoot up my high school. There wasn't actually an active shooter in the building, but no one knew that until like an hour into everything. Honestly, no one even knew it wasn't a drill until we saw a police squad pass outside the door about fifteen minutes in or so. No one had any clue what was happening, people were terrified, it was pretty hellish :/

So, yeah, scariest memory :/

Anyhow, thanks for the ask :) You take care too.

#anon #yuvon speaks #tw guns #tw gun threat

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keilanabug · 3 years

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Hey, it's Me

So GEEZ LOUISE. I was last on here at Christmas time of 2020. Never got that fic up. I don't have Tumblr on my phone and can only get to a computer so much these days. Here's a quick update for anyone interested in where I've been (I'm sure you're not, but whatever):

I lost one of my friends to suicide in September 2020 and in January 2021, we held a school-wide balloon release in honor of her. We also lost one of our other classmates to cancer (FUCK CANCER)

Was part of play as the narrator and hated the director, but enjoyed the people, and had a lot of fun freezing my ass off on stage,

Had a good Christmas with family, and finally came to my truth as being bisexual! Only my friends know my parents and family I have not told, but I'm getting there. I also go by both she/her and they/them.

Fun story: Got stuck in a real lockdown in my school because of a threat of a shooter :) Nothing happened, the person was caught and everyone was safe. I was in the safest part of the building in a lot of ways with my favorite teacher in my favorite class, so I skipped any panic attacks.

Attended my uncle's wedding and had an AMAZING tennis season with the best team and coaches. Our coaches are married and their daughter became the team's baby sister. We adore her and now we have a baby brother as of a week ago!

Had a good Prom with friends that the Class of 2022 (my class) put together because the school was stupid. The school said they'd refuse to host it and I and my classmates went "STUPID" and put a full school Prom together and used it as a fundraising opportunity (and it WORKED)

Managed to pass my finals and pass Junior year (how the hell that happened I don't know)

Had an amazing, busy, sad, and exhausting summer which included an amazing conference where I was a speaker before a VERY well known speaker, an amazing camp, lost my grandpa to COVID-19 (STAY MASKED UP AND GET VACCINATED YA LOSERS), had an amazing final County fair where ya girl and her horse got champion 4 times!!!

And now I'm a senior in high school! I got to see Lindsey Stirling in concert with one of my best friends, celebrated several of my friends birthdays, had an amazing Senior Homecoming week, planning a trip to Disneyland for my Senior Trip with my family, helped get a teacher fired, and chased away both the principal and superintendent (SECRET LOVERS!!! SECRET LOVERS!! (I'm kidding, they weren't but it was a big joke)), got to meet the Freedom Writer and Erin Gruwell, and am now currently filling out several college applications (SHEESH). And don't worry, I'm still doing a lot of writing.

Fandoms I am In Marvel, Percy Jackson, Criminal Minds, Wizarding World, Disney, and Pixar, How to Train Your Dragon, Hamilton, Miraculous Ladybug, A:TLA, Once Upon a Time, Psych, Downton Abbey, Stranger Things, Merlin, Muppets, Star Wars, and Dream SMP, and probably a few others I'm not thinking of.

So yeah, that's where I've been and what's happened. I'll try to be more active, at least reposting and responding to Moots (Are you still out there? Do you remember that I exist?), and maybe getting a few fics out there. Love you all!

#marvel #return #im not dead #hamilton #hufflepuff #marvel cinematic universe #wizarding world #sorry moots #mutuals #im back

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yuvon-writes-letters · 3 years

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Yu...

Damn Yu, I don't even know how to explain what just happened!!

Okay, so..I went upstairs...But when I got to Hannah the psychopath came upstairs. [The handwriting starts to get shaky] He had his gun. And he was angry. He...he shot. Shot me.

If I had to explain I would say my entity, the..nice (??) entity stopped time. At least it felt like it. The world went blurry and suddenly everything, *we all* crashed to the ground. Then everything went black.

[The writing is more clean again] Okay, I think I got myself together now. I'm back home. On my couch. That's where I woke up. And all the letters we ever sent are clean infront of me. I read everything I missed, also what you wrote Jake.

But on top on all of those letters there was a little note written with golden ink. The same ink 'my' entity used to..write you. Honestly, I don't know why, the way they write their letters seems so familiar. I just can't grab it.

But the most important thing: Time seems to be..turned backwards. I just got the picture of the mask again. You know, this very first picture.

You know what, I'll add the note I talked of to this letter, I think that explains my situation probably a bit better.

Thank you for your whole support, Yuvon. At least in the moment I don't want to think about what might have happened. BUT I want to concentrate and help you while I sort things out here.

A very relieved and maybe traumatised,

Lis🐾🔥

Ps. I just got a message from Jake...

~~~~

[The note is written in a beautiful handwriting and golden ink]

My girl, that's the last thing you'll hear from me for some time.

Keeping much contact with you isn't good and definitely counterproductive.

So listen closely: These events probably won't happen again like this. But I won't always be able to safe you.

Keep your contact with Jake now, *your* Jake and tell him everything. Send him all the letters you got till now.

Your Jake *now* isn't the Jake you almost met. He's the same but with no memories. You just got the picture of the mask. Turn the events.

Lis,

Holy shit what the fuck.

Even for us, this is kind of insane. Time travel is... well, I was always sort of, I had the impression that time as we knew it was a construct of human society to make our lives easier. Looks like I was wrong, which means the universe is probably structured to some extent, which means it was CREATED by someone, which actually sort of

Sorry. This shouldn't be about my existential crisis.

I'm so, so sorry you had to go through that. I once was under lockdown in my school building because the police thought there was an active shooter in the building (there wasn't thank hell) so I have somewhat of an idea what you went through, and yeah, it's fucking terrifying.

Your nicer entity seems to be very much invested in you, for some reason or another. It seems likely you know them somehow. Maybe they've been watching over you for a while, a sort of guardian angel, or maybe a literal one. Or maybe someone you knew somehow ascended. Honestly, your entity seems very reluctant to contact either of us if at all possible, so we may never know.

You're welcome. You're my friend, of course I'd help you.

And, yes, your entity is absolutely right. You should show Jake everything. Let me know if he needs any more proof of my identity, I'll give it gladly. Please let me know what he says in response to all this.

Jake is relieved too. And, while I was telling him you were okay, he managed to apologize to me before I could go back to ignoring him, so we're back to talking. I'm still not exactly happy with him, but I've mostly forgiven him. I can't really keep grudges well after they apologize.

Stay away from the woods, stay in places with lots of people whenever possible, maybe rent a hotel room if you can, and text Jake every day (maybe even multiple times a day) so he'll know quickly if you go missing.

Good luck.

—Yu and Jake

(The letter tucks itself into the paper clip with the others.)

#duskwood letter game #yuvon writes letters #duskwood #duskwood game #duskwood everbyte #duskwood jake #lis

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catsandstrawberries · 5 years

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Real Family: Final Chapter

Pairings: BTS x teen female reader, platonic love

Warnings: Gun violence, triggering actions and words, domestic violence, language, fluff and angst

A/N: This is the last chapter of the series. I really appreciate everyone who commented on past chapters and gave me words of encouragement.

Summary: It’s not blood that makes a family, it’s love.

Masterlist

The next morning, going to school was surprisingly different, but in a good way. I was able to laugh with Amber, she even drove us to school. I also had time to think about how I should approach Zara and reconnect with her without both of us getting angry.

Once inside the school, I rushed towards Zara's locker where she would usually be found before the first period. "Zara!" I shouted when I was in arms reach, standing in front of her so she couldn't run away.

"What do you want now." She sighed in aggravation,

"I love you." I rushed out, ignoring her shocked expression.

"Wha-"

"I love you. I adore you. My life without you has been miserable. You have become my best friend Zara, and I haven't had a lot of those. My life feels like its been going to shit, and I miss you, Zara." She looked as if she wanted to protest at my words, "and I'm sorry. But, both you and Amber are my friends now. She’s changed." Just as I said that Amber appeared from behind me,

"Zara, can we talk." Zara glared at the girl but nevertheless nodded, the two of them walked towards the other side of the hallway. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I saw the two of them in the conversation, talking and then finally hugging. A smile spread onto my face at the interaction, watching the two walk back over towards me. Zara launched herself into my arm as soon as she got back and I gladly returned the hug.

"I'm sorry, I might have overreacted." Zara laughed then turned to Amber, "and I'm happy we're friends again." The bell rang signaling first class, and sadly we parted ways. The two of them heading towards their honors abstract algebra class while I left for my pre-calc class.

It felt strange for everything to be working out, at least with the school. Now I needed to tackle the problem with the boys. It wasn't like I could ignore the constant texts, voicemails, and calls forever. Whether I liked it or not they were still my legal guardians. A small part of me, well-big part of me hoped that things had changed. That despite their original intentions of using me for their own benefit, I had become something more to them.

"(Y/N)." My eyes lifted from my desk towards the teacher, "could you run to the office and grab me some papers from the printer?" I nodded at the teacher and left the room, walking down the hallways towards the office. The hallways dead quiet until a crackling noise split through the air, similar to a thunderstrike before the storm. Confused, I looked around the hallways before another strike erupted causing my entire body to stiffen. My skin prickled, and at that moment I forgot to breathe. Screams erupted from down the hallway, and rapid footsteps pounded into the polished floor. The overhead speaker flickered on, static filling the hallways by a frightened woman's voice,

"We are now in Lockdown mode, an active shooter is inside the school." The speaker flickered off and I instantly reacted, running into an empty classroom and pushing the door shut. Why was there a shooter in the school? Before I could catch up with my own thought process the speaker was sending static into the room once again. Except for this time instead of the woman's voice, it was a breathy, hesitant male.

"If I don't meet (Y/N) (L/N) in the office in five minutes then I'm going to shoot every student in this building until I find her." A chill ran down my spine at his voice, the very voice that gave me nightmares, and haunted my childhood. I hadn't heard my last name in so long, the only person who ever used that name with me was my mom, and,

"dad?"

What the fuck was I doing?

From what I could tell I was searching for a man, my father, abusive if I might add, who had a gun. Not only that, but he was threatening to kill people. Why now? I hadn't seen this man in years, and now he was threatening to kill people if he didn't see me.

I slowed down once I reached the main office, the sound of the AC, fan in the ceiling, and hushed whispers were all I could hear. I whipped my head around at a clocking of a gun, a black handheld being pointed straight at my head. A middle-aged man, balding and yellow tooth smirked at me, his breath reeking of alcohol.

"Hey sweetie, you've grown up so much."

Jimin had been the closest to the school when it happened. He had been out grabbing a coffee at a nearby cafe when a woman rushed into the store, hair a mess and breathing frantically as if she had been running. Jimin hadn’t been paying all that much attention to her until he heard what she had to say.

"Someone, help! There's a shooter at the high school!" Jimin was rushing out the door as soon as the words left her mouth, his mind racing as his coffee cup was disregarded. The hot liquid falling to the floor, spilling on the tile, but he paid no attention. All Jimin could think about was what he would do if he lost her. He hadn't seen her in two days, and after Namjoon explained what happened when she came to visit them at bighit, he knew she didn't want to see them. He wouldn't know what he would do if she got shot. If her last memory of him, and the other six boys was that none of them even wanted her in the first place. Jimin, after seeing the flashing lights on ambulances and cop cars decided it would be best not to take his chance on the streets. He didn't know what he would do, how he would do it. But he knew he was going to save her. No matter what it took.

Namjoon had been the first one to get the call. At the time he was in a meeting with the other boys and Bang, while Jimin went on a coffee run. Not so much because they needed coffee, but Jimin had stated that he needed to clear his head before the meeting.

"Where the hell is Jimin," Yoongi scoffed looking at his watch just as Namjoons phone started to buzz. Usually, he wouldn't bring his phone into these types of meetings, but he hadn't heard from (Y/N) in almost 48 hours. He was worried about her. They all were.

"Is that her?" Hoseok asked as Namjoon picked up the phone. Instead of the girl's voice, however, he was met with a police officer. All five boys watched as Namjoons face paled, his eyebrows scrunching together in confusion, as he pulled the phone away from his ear.

"Namjoon," Taehyung asked, standing up from his seat. The words seemed to knock him out of his shock as he motioned to all the boys,

"let's go." Bang stood from his chair,

"Wait! Namjoon you can't just leave." Namjoon turned to his manager just as he was about to step out of the room.

"There's a shooter at the school. The same school (Y/N)’s at right now. We’re leaving." Without another word Namjoon was gone, a series of shouts came from the other boys, but nevertheless, they all followed Namjoon out of the building. Once the boys had gotten to the school Taehyung was jumping out of the car before Namjoon could even park. Countless parents and a few students who were able to escape stood outside while police ushered to the crowd to stay calm. Tae rushed towards the police line only to be stopped by an officer.

"Sir, you can't go any further, there's an active shooter inside." Taehyung tried to swallow his comment, he really did. But she was inside, and he could feel his mind start to cloud over with anger at the mere thought of her getting hurt. He didn't know how to handle it, so he projected it onto the best person to blame.

"You know who else is inside? My kid. Why are you outside instead of in there?" The officer glared at the man as Taehyung motioned towards the school.

"Sir, that's not my job. I'm in charge of establishing a perimeter while the first response team can only go inside at the moment." Yoongi appeared at Tae's side once noticing the fight.

"Where is the first response team?" Yoongi asked fist clenched in anger.

"They aren't here yet. They're on their way." The two members both started shouting separate profanities at the police officer. Both mad, angry, and frustrated with the prospect of the situation. Jin at the moment was doing his best not to cry, desperately gripping onto Namjoons hand as he watched students rush out of the school. Hands over their head to show that they weren't a threat. Every time a student left the doors he prayed one of them would be her, but they never were, and with each passing student he could only think of the worst-case scenario. If only he had stopped her at BigHit. Little did he know Namjoon was thinking the same thing. Blaming himself for not telling her the truth, blaming BigHit for manipulating a child for the boy bands popularity. Hoseok was furiously texting and calling Jimin, sometimes shouting into the phone to get his ass over to the school. Why the hell wasn't he picking up his phone? Jungkook quietly stood by himself. Not knowing how to process the events unfolding in front of him. He was so worried about you and overwhelmed by this scenario. Yet there was nothing he could do but wait for you. He knew you'd come out okay, you had to.

"D-Dad?" The words felt so foreign on my tongue, and calling the man in front of me such a term made me want to gag. Especially when he had a pistol pointed at my forehead. "Wha-what? Why are you here, why now?" He smiled at me as if this was a normal situation for him.

"Really honey? Nice to see you too.” He remarked, the gun shaking slightly with his body as he chuckled. “As for your other question, I thought you would have figured it out by now." I looked at him in confusion and he shrugged, the gun tilting with a shake of his shoulders. "I sent you clues and everything doll." My eyes widened at his statement and I took a hesitant step back,

"the messages? Those were from you?" The edge of his lips rose in a smirk, his cracked teeth parting as he talked in a sing-song voice.

"There's more." More? What more could there be? Why would he even come here, risk everything and get brought to jail, and the boys were rich they could win any court case and put him behind bars for life. As if a lightbulb went off in my head I looked up at the man, hurt evident in my eyes.

"You're here for the money. You started messaging me after I got adopted, you want ransom?" He smiled,

"ding, ding ding. That's my girl. Always knew you were smart." I backed away slightly despite the gun pointed at my body.

"Don't call me that. You gave up any right to even associate yourself with me when you left me to fend for myself."

"Stop moving, and don't be so childish." He hissed out, "let's go, we're leaving." I scoffed at him as he pushed me by the shoulder, turning me around so the gun was directly hitting my shoulder blade. "We? The whole school is probably surrounded by police, what are you going to do." He pushed harder with the gun and I whimpered at the added pressure but clearly noticed his lack of a plan. "You wouldn't shoot me. You need me alive if you want money." He harshly spun me around, his nails digging into my shoulder blade while he glared at me with dark eyes. Before I could react, his flaky hand was wrapped against my throat, cutting off my air-flow. Despite the fight, I pulled my pushing and clawing at his skin doing little to slow him down. To stop my fighting he roughly slammed my back against the closest wall, the shock reverberating through my chest and all of the wind being knocked out of my lungs. "You've got this all wrong, dear daughter of mine. I have nothing left to lose." A dark tint glinted in his eyes as he spoke, one of pure manic and madness. "If this goes south, I'm killing the both of us. Your mother would be so proud." He pushed the gun toward my face. "Open your mouth." I rapidly shook my head, water droplets forming in my eyes as I realized the severity of the situation. "Open!" He screamed, shaking my body and squeezing my neck harder making it difficult to breathe. As if on instinct I opened my mouth and he pushed the barrel past my teeth and deep into my throat. I sobbed at his actions, choking against the metal of the weapon. "Don't do anything stupid, I won't be asking nicely." He seethed, dropping my body as I collapsed to the floor, coughing and gasping for air, rubbing at the bruise starting to form on my neck. "Get up," He grabbed me by my ponytail, pulling me up from the floor and dragging me with him. Regret instantly washed over me like a tidal wave, I shouldn't have run from the boys. It was stupid and childish I should have talked to them, but then again they could have told me the truth from the beginning. The idea of him killing me started to sink in, I might actually die here. I'm so sorry Namjoon, I'm sorry Jin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Taehyung, Jimin, Jungkook.

A plan started forming in my head, and I knew what I was doing was stupid, but if I was going to die, he was going to die too. A loud sob interrupted me from my thoughts as the grip on my hair loosened. "Did you hear that? Is it one of your friends?" He turned down a corner and placed his ear next to a closed-door were the sobs were coming from. "Let's pay them a visit." In an instant, he threw his body at the door, shot the door handle, kicked the wood until finally, it collapsed. He ran into the room in a wild frenzy and started blindly shooting. I gaped at the scene in horror, my fight or flight instincts taking in as I grabbed the closest thing next to me and threw it at him. Thankfully my aim wasn't as bad as I thought because the stapler hit him square in the forehead. Shocking him so much that he fell to the floor and dropped the gun.

"Go!" I shouted, towards the students, most of whom were unharmed except for one boy who was clutching at his bleeding shoulder. I rushed forward towards the groaning man laying on his back, grabbing his gun and running out of the room. Adrenaline pumped through my veins as I saw the exit, but something in the back of my brain was screaming at me. Zara and Amber! Without a second thought, I ran towards the math wing running into the classroom for abstract algebra only to find it empty. Thank God. I rushed out of the room into the hallway, my shoes squeaking down the polished floor, breathing unsteady as I looked left and right for any search of him. Palms clammy around the black weapon in my grasp. A separate crash made me jump, and I rapidly searched the hallways, gun pointing in all directions. As the hallways went quiet, I dropped the gun, holding it at my side as I rushed around the corner. Before I knew what was happening an arm had wrapped around my throat, a pathetic scream filling my ears, and I realized it was my own. The gun flew from my hands as I clawed at the muscle restricting my airways.

"You're a little cunt you know that?" He harshly threw me to the floor, my head smacking the floor with a harsh, thud! "I don't know whether to be proud of your aim or to kill you for attacking your father." I gathered up my courage, pushing myself up on my knees hissing out,

"you aren't my father." His body stiffened as he grabbed the gun,

"I'm going to fucking kill you." He pulled me up by the scruff of my black sweater and on instinct, I sunk my teeth as hard as I could into his hand. His grip loosening enough so I could push his hand away. If there was anything I learned from living with a monster like him, it was that he hated spit. I gargled as much fleam, and saliva into my mouth as possible then spit right onto his face as he shouted in disgust. I grabbed the gun out of his grip as he screamed and as if on instinct I blindly shot. The pressure of the gun sending me falling onto my butt. My ears ringing, and head pounding as all of my senses started to blur. I looked up at the man to see him gripping onto his shoulder in pain, "you shot me?" he spoke almost as if it was a question, crimson blood leaking through his hands and shirt. Oh my God, I just shot someone. "You bitch," more tears started to form in my eyes and I couldn't move. Despite watching him lunge at me, all I could focus on was the blood gushing from the wound that I caused. I shot someone. He lunged at me, bloodstained hands reaching out to grab at me, just before he could someone rushed at the man. A blurry mess of two people entangled in a struggle until the stranger gave him a swift blow to the cheek, his body flopping to the floor. More people started to rush by me, blurs of blue and black, more men with guns. It wasn't until warm hands were wrapping around mine, gently taking the gun away from me that I noticed I was shaking. Tremors causing my hands to barely even stay still.

"(Y/N)," I looked up and make eye contact with hazelnut orbs, pink lips parted as if he was about to cry.

"Jimin?" A choked sob escaped my throat and before I knew it I'm launching myself into his arms. Desperately clutching onto his shirt as tears track onto his skin. I was being picked up off the ground practically effortlessly by Jimin, my legs wrapping around his waist at the movement.

"I got you," he muttered and I peeked up at him from his shoulder, watching as his pupils started to water, heavy lights fading into his eyes. A sudden pain hits my head as if a hammer was being slammed against a glass ball. Immediately I start whimpering, digging my face into the crook of his neck.

"Jimin, everything hurts. My head." Another set of choked sobs escapes my mouth however that only causes a feeling of burning liquid acid in my throat. Before I know it, I’m outside, still being carried by Jimin. "Jimin put me down please," I mumble and he reluctantly does so, staying close by my side as I travel down the steps, six boys rushing at me despite the angered shouts of the police. Yoongi gets to me first, his arms wrapping around my torso, the familiar scent of mint and cinnamon engulfing my senses as I wrap my arms around his neck. My body racking with sobs as several other pairs of arms join us before I finally go slack in their arms. Rapid mumbles, shouts, and cries are going through my ears. ‘We’re never leaving you alone again,’ and ‘i’m so sorry.’ The latter was said a lot. My body relaxes against the boys, just as they start to pull away I stumble and lean against Tae.

"I hit my head," I mumble barely above a whisper and just as I spoke the words he scoops me up bridal style, yet I'm too tired to care about how embarrassing it is. I'm sat at the edge of an open ambulance, a woman examining me. Rubbing at my forehead, asking what hurts, and repairing some minor cuts and bruises. She stops at my neck however, her hands becoming softer as she grazes the skin.

“She most likely has a concussion, and her esophagus is damaged so she might have trouble talking. I can't do much, but you should bring her to the hospital to get her head checked.” The boys let out a chorus of thank yous, but I wasn't paying any attention to her. Rather the bloodshot men in front of me, eyes beet red and swollen from crying, hanging on to every word the woman said. The woman wraps a blanket around me then leaves as she’s called towards another student. I catch my reflection from the back of a parked car. I'm a mess. Dried blood streaks painted randomly across my face as if someone had given up on trying to wipe them away. My neck looks swollen, and there's a constant pain in the back of my throat.

Gentle, calloused hands are wrapped around my face, rubbing circles at my cheeks as Namjoon places a kiss on my forehead. I'm too tired to move away from the gesture and instead relish in it.

"I'm so sorry," Namjoon says once again, rubbing gentle circles on my cheeks. Blurry eyed I look up to Namjoon then the boys, a sudden burst of energy clouding my ability to reason.

"Th-” I'm shocked at the sound of my voice. Broken, cracked, and unwanted pain makes me wince.

“Hey, it’s okay. Don't talk if it hurts.” Hoseok is at my side, gently rubbing my back while I clear my throat and speak barely above a whisper.

“That was my birth father. He shot up the school. He wanted to use me, to get money from you." Suga sits on the opposite side of Hobi, a gritted look upon his face.

"He's never going to get anywhere fucking near you when we're done with him” The venom behind his tone was noticeable but what surprised me was when Jungkook spoke up.

“That bastard will be rotting behind bars for the rest of his shit life.” I nodded and slipped the blanket off,

"please, can we just go home. Together."

Apparently, there are these things called laws that frown upon citizens shooting a gun. So instead of going home, I was sent to the police station, a young police officer interviewed me, his nervous voice sounding almost as anxious as my own. Namjoon was instantly calling his best lawyer, and it felt nice to have another person helping me out with the questions, and advising me what to say. Huh, I guess rich privilege is nice sometimes. The officer after questioning me labeled the scenario as one of unavoidable danger but did warn me that I would be called into court for shooting a firearm whether or not it was out of self-defense. Either to stand up for my actions, or testify against my fathers.

After what felt like hours, I was finally back to the comfort of the soft, plush couch. I was sandwiched between Jimin and Hoseok, the five other boys surrounding us. I huddled myself into a ball, a fluffy grey blanket wrapping me up into a makeshift baby burrito.

"I'm sorry." I finally spoke up, getting a strange look from Jimin who was sitting next to me.

"For what? Almost dying?" Jimin aggressively asked while I downcasted my eyes.

"For running away. For not telling you about the messages. I should have seen this coming, he gave me so many warning signs-." Hobi gently grabbed my arm, turning me to face him.

"What messages?" I bit my lip, turmoil, and regret spreading through my stomach and up my throat.

"I kept getting anonymous messages, saying things like, see you soon, and I'm coming for you." Namjoon instantly was perking up from his seat across the room.

"What? Why didn't you tell us?"

"I don't know. It's just that I've always felt like such a bother my whole life, and you have so much on your plate. I didn’t want to bother you. It's hard to adjust from being nothing to having someone care about you so suddenly. " I paused, questioning my word choice. "Or at least, I think you guys care." Jungkook gently grabbed my hand turning me to face him,

"(Y/N), last week you asked us why we adopted you. It’s because we love you. We want you here." The dripping tears start to form before I can even stop them, yes from his words, but he was also looking me straight in the eyes as he spoke. I had no doubt in my mind he was telling the truth.

"Adopting you was the best thing that ever happened to me, to us," Yoongi spoke up while the other boys nodded in confirmation.

"(Y/N), when we found out about the shooter. We were all horrified. I don't know what we would have done if you got killed." Taehyung vocalized,

How did I get so lucky to have this group? Despite the ups and downs, I trusted them, Jimin practically saved my life today. Taehyung treated me like a daughter, Jungkook not only picked me up from a party at a ridiculous time but let my friends puke in his car. Yoongi formed a real relationship with me, Jin always treated me with kindness and gave me an extra sugar rush, and Hoseok never failed to lighten up my day. Namjoon since the beginning had always tried to help me fit in, to help me feel welcome.

"I never knew what a real family was like. Until I met you." A chorus of awe’s erupted from the group and before I knew it I was being squished between the seven boys in a group hug. Warm arms enveloping me in a loving embrace. At that moment I fully understood what it meant to have a family, to be loved.

"Alright who forgot to put on deodorant this morning?" Hoseok shouted, accusingly sniffing at Jin who smacked him on the back of the head.

I wouldn't trade these seven idiots for the world.

Taglist: @xxqueenwxtchxx @ayyeaestheticgirl18 @im-emo-motherfuckers@kamirichibi @officiallyza @treetops68 @there-could-be-stairs @acklesgold @bisoo-ausucre @bts-edits-bitch @celestial-m00n @springdayblink @joyful-jimin @vannilacake @youcantbesiriusremus @i-like-puppy-mg@namjoonsslutakakoreanmanswhore @officiallyza@odditiesanddeities

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imagines-dreams · 6 years

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At the School Shooting - Lucifer Morningstar

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: mentions of death, school shooting, torture, negative views on the NRA

Summary: Lucifer fell in love with you, a kindergarten teacher. No one would expect you or your job to be involved in any of Lucifer’s and Chloe’s cases. Unfortunately, one of the suspect’s targets works at your school.

Word Count: 3295

You bent down at the knees and smiled at the little boy. “I think that’s a brilliant idea, Milo.” You ruffled his hair. “I’ll ask the other teachers, and we can see if we can have a day dedicated to pajamas and stuffed animals, yeah?”

Your student giggled. “Thank you, Ms. (Y/l/n).”

“You’re welcome, Milo. I’ll see you tomorrow, ok, bud?”

He nodded and ran to the P.E. teacher.

You smiled and waved the coach goodbye. No more children were left to pass along, so you smiled and headed to your classroom. You cleaned up the scattered toys and filed forgotten homework.

“Hello.”

You jumped and laughed. “Luce,” you giggled. You turned around and leaned against your desk. “You know, it’s been months, and I’m still not used to that.”

“Well, it’s been months and,” Lucifer said, looking around the room full of bright colors and toys for children, “I’m still not used to all…” Lucifer motioned to your classroom. “All this. It’s so… domestic. Boring. Dull. Where’s the danger? The excitement?”

You beamed. “I’m a kindergarten teacher, Luce.”

“Well aware of that disgusting fact, darling. Which is why I’m” -your boyfriend pulled you closer by your waist- “very excited to bring you back home later today, hm?”

You shook your head and looked up to Lucifer. “I have papers to grade.”

“Mhm.” He leaned down, his lips brushing against your earlobe, and whispered, “You know I’m impatient.”

“Lucifer,” you whined.

“Ah, well, isn’t that beautiful sound?”

You placed your hands on his chest. “Lucifer.”

“Yes, darling?”

You pushed him away and laughed. “I still have work.”

Lucifer stared at your hands on his chest and back at you. He raised his eyebrow and began to laugh. “Uh, sweetheart, I don’t think this is how it’s supposed to go.”

You beamed and turned to clean up the room. Your kids often left many toys on the floor and forgot to place books back on the proper shelves.

Lucifer continued, “You see, how it’s supposed to happen is I appear here, in your classroom.” He snuck up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist and arms, preventing you from picking up the puppet from the floor and making you giggle again. “Maybe kiss you once.” Lucifer leaned forward and kissed your cheek. “Twice, if needed.” He left a lingering kiss on your neck. “Then, I don’t know, carry you to your desk, maybe whisper some choice words I only want to tell you.” Lucifer’s honeyed voice filled your ear and tickled your cheek.

You closed your eyes and tried to not pay attention, and even though Lucifer’s tricks didn’t work on you, you still couldn’t help the weak feeling in your knees and lungs and chest. You shook your head. “Luce,” you complained. You craned your neck to the side you could look in his eyes. “Look, as much as I’d love… part of what you said, I actually, really, need to work.” You escaped Lucifer’s tempting and comforting embrace and picked up that misplaced puppet. “That and the kids will come back in an hour.”

“I can do a lot of things in an hour,” Lucifer smirked.

Memories of you and Lucifer together just flashed in your mind, when Lucifer’s phone vibrated. You bit your lip and nodded. “You’re on a case, aren’t you?”

“I’m always on a case, darling, but,” the consultant swiftly took out his phone and sighed, “I do hate being interrupted.” He smiled at you and kissed you quickly and before leaving, he added, “And I promise you, love, I will be back for that fantasy of ours.”

“Of yours, Lucifer!” you yelled back.

Your phone vibrated. Its unbecoming to lie my queen.

You smiled and sent back a devil emoji. You pocketed your phone before your poor king of hell could tell you how insulted he was. Instead, you continued cleaning and organizing. You checked your schedule. Next was an hour of reading time and then nap time.

When the coach returned your students to you, you already had the book to read to the kids ready, a bright picture book with big text and easy words.

“Alright, settle down, children.” You laughed as two of your kids hugged your legs and tried to pull you down. You sat down in your chair and clapped your hands twice. Half of your class clapped twice, so you clapped once again. You counted the number of children while they settled down on the mat. All twenty-three kids were well and accounted for.

You grinned. “Alright, let’s begin our story today.” You held up the big book.

“Paging Mr. Albright. Mr. Albright, please report to the office.”

Your eyes widened, but the announcement principal repeated, “Again, Mr. Albright, please report to the office.”

You gulped. “Unfortunately, there’s been a change of plans,” you explained to the children.

Little Kayla tilted her head. “Mr. Albright?”

You licked your lips and set down your book. You never thought it would happen at your school with your students, but you always knew there was a chance. You’ve trained for this. You smiled at Kayla and got up to lock the doors. “Does anyone remember what Mr. Albright does?”

Your kids stayed silent. They knew. They were aware of what was going on.

You smiled at them. “Don’t worry. We’ve practiced this remember.” You pulled on the door and peeked outside the window to see your fellow teachers doing the same thing. You covered the window with a poster and turned off the lights. “Now, as long as we follow the rules, we’re going to be ok.”

The kids nodded and got to work. Even though most of them were only five years old, they seemed to understand, at the very least, that they were in danger.

Mr. Albright was the name of the man who established the school decades ago. He was dead. His name was used to warn the school when someone spotted a shooter.

Many of your kids lined up in front of the cubbies. Some grabbed their friends hands, and a few grabbed their toys to hold onto during the lockdown. One of them, though, Jeremiah walked up to you. “Ms. (Y/l/n),” he whispered.

“What is it?”

He gulped and lifted his foot and slowly dropped it onto the floor. His shoe lit up the room.

“Jeremiah!” a few kids whined.

The little boy jumped into your already open arms. You rubbed his back. “Jeremiah, it’s ok. You’re ok.” You gulped and set him down. “Let’s remove your shoes, ok?” When he nodded, you removed his light-up shoes and set them down in the closet by the door. You picked him up and walked over to the rest of your kids. “Everyone remembers what to do, right?”

You stayed as close the cubbies as possible, recounted the kids, and closed the door with all of you inside. “Ok, so it’s quiet time until they ask for Mrs. Miller is called. Quiet games and hands close to your heart, yes?”

Your kids nodded and turned to each other to play a game you taught them, chopsticks.

You gulped and set Jeremiah down to play with him.

You let him win every single time and wiped his eyes when his tears leaked. You recounted the kids. All twenty-three. Kayla, a smart little girl who loved building houses out of legos, was reading a book in the dark. Grant, a noisy kid who loved to sing, was biting down on his bottom lip and lightly tapping his fingers against his legs. Little Maisy, a quiet and shy child, was watching some of her friends, Lani and Ursa, as they made shapes with their hands.

It broke your heart that your kids had to worry about this. That they had to go through drills like this once every few months. They didn’t deserve to actually go through a lockdown like this.

Then again, no child ever deserved a harsher reality like the one you were in.

Minutes had passed. No announcement over the loudspeaker.

Grant wiggled his way to you and asked, “Is it over yet?”

You shook your head. “Not yet. They haven’t called for Mrs. Miller, remember?”

Your student nodded. “I miss my mom and dad.” The five-year-old sniffed and bit his lip again.

“It’s ok, Grant. They’ll be here soon.”

His eyes went wide and he shook his head. “No!”

“Grant,” you sternly whispered. The other kids shushed him, too.

Then, Grant’s eyes filled with tears and he shook his head. “I don’t want Mommy and Daddy here. They could get hurt, Ms. (Y/l/n).”

You blinked away your own tears and held his hands. “It’s ok, Grant. Your parents won’t get hurt ok? I promise.” You looked to your students and smiled. “Nothing is going to happen to you while I’m here.” You hugged Grant and watched as your other kids silently went back to their silent activities.

You knew you’d sacrifice yourself if anything bad were to happen.

Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The kids screamed. SOme shushed the others, but all of them huddled around you. You grit your teeth and held as many kids close to you as possible. Everyone’s sobs were muffled, but even so, you knew that if the shooter came near the door, he would hear them. You tried to calmly shush your students, and it partially worked, but you couldn’t help the way your heart shattered at their screams.

Then, the fire alarm went off.

Your kids started crying again. “Shouldn’t we-”

“No,” you frantically responded. “No, we’re staying right here, ok? We’re going to be ok.”

BANG!

Your kids cried.

BANG!

Tim cried in your lap.

BANG!

Harriet yelped.

BANG!

Oscar prayed.

You held onto your kids and shushed them as best you could.

...

There were no more gunshots. Not for a few minutes. The sobs were muffled at best, and all of your kids were quivering, too afraid to move away from you.

“Mrs. Miller, please report to the parking lot. Mrs. Miller, please report to the parking lot. All parents are waiting.”

Your kids cheered, but the announcement wasn’t over. You recognized that voice, too. It wasn’t the principal. “And, (Y/n), call Lucifer. Now, please.”

Your kids broke past the door and huddled around the locked classroom exit. “Ok, everyone follows me to the parking lot, ok? Hold hands. Hold hands, please!”

Every kid grabbed someone else’s hand, and you recounted them. Twenty-three. Everyone was ok. You nodded and peeled the poster off the window. You peeked around to see the other teachers doing the same. Two teachers left the classroom and searched the hallways.

Both of them came back and gave a thumbs up.

You unlocked the door and led the kids to the parking lot. As you watched parents scoop up their kids and kids running to their parents, you called Lucifer.

From Chloe’s tired and worried tone, you could piece together a general timeline. The shooter was connected to Lucier’s current case somehow. Part of their plan was the shoot someone at the school you worked in. Lucifer and Chloe arrived during shooting, and the criminal was being punished by your boyfriend.

And since the shooter threatened your safety, you doubt Lucifer was following the law he enforced.

“Darling, now’s not a great time.”

“Why not, Lucifer?” You pursed your lips. “Lucifer, where are you?”

“I can assure you, I’m somewhere far away..” His voice went dark. “Don’t worry, love, this man isn’t going to hurt anyone ever again.”

“Wait, Lucifer!” You took a deep breath. “Look, I hate that person with all of my being. He threatened my students, Lucifer. Only a few of them are barely six, and the rest are five. None of them deserved the fear and pain they just went through, and you’re right, whoever you’re with, they deserve to be punished.”

“Ah, so you see my point of view. Then, allow me to-”

“No.”

“No?”

“Lucifer, you’re a good person. It’s why I love you, and you know that killing him, torturing him right now, is wrong.” You took a deep breath. “Turn him in. Chloe and Dan and Ella, they will make sure to it that they’re punished for what they’ve done.”

“But, sweetheart… I don’t understand. This excuse of a soul doesn’t deserve due process and all that mumbo jumbo. He threatened you-”

“I know. I know, Luce, but… but right now, I don’t need Lucifer, the punisher of everyone’s sins and the ruler of all Hell. Right now,” you sniffed as the gunshots from before echoed in your mind, “I need my boyfriend.” You gulped. “Turn him in, Lucifer. Please.”

Lucifer was silent for a few moments, and if you listened hard enough, you could hear somebody whimpering. Still, Lucifer stayed quiet before he relented. “Tell the Detective I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

You cracked out a painful laugh. “Thank you, Lucifer. I’ll see you soon.”

He scoffed. “Anything for you, darling.”

All the kids were dismissed, being checked by EMT’s and the police. Apparently, the shooter had a list of people he wanted to kill, all people who had “wronged” him in some way. That list included the assistant principal, who “took” his job. Mrs. Langston was critically injured, already in the hospital. Mr. Juarez, the assistant second grade teacher, Mr. Smith, the secretary, and Elena, the student body president, were shot on sight. There were several other students and a few staff members were injured and were being rushed to the hospital. The last number you heard was twelve in the hospital.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

You blinked away your tears and smiled up at him. “You’re back.” You glanced at his hands. “Glad to see you didn’t do anything incriminating.”

“I never said that.” Lucifer unbuttoned his tuxedo jacket and sat on the bench next to you. His eyes never left you. “Are you ok?”

The gunshots still echoed in your head. You bit your lip and closed your eyes. You could still feel the children’s tears soaking through the shirt and clinging to your body. You had taught the kids well, though. They knew what to do. They knew the coded warning. They knew to hide in the closet with the cubbies. Even Jeremiah asked you about his light-up shoes. He knew that the shooter could see it.

…

Kids shouldn’t have to think about. They’re only five, for goodness sake. They shouldn’t have to go through drills. They shouldn’t have to worry about their parents coming to get them. They shouldn’t have to worry about their own life at a place meant for love and learning. You were there to teach and to take care of children, not to calm them down when they hear gunshots in the school.

“(Y/n),” Lucifer sighed and wrapped his arms around you. Only when his vest got wet did you realize you were crying. You shook your head and moved in closer to him.

Lucifer held you close. “Nothing’s going to hurt you,” he said. “Not while I’m here, ok? You’re ok. As long as I’m alive, you’re going to be ok.”

You shook your head. “I know that.” You sniffed and gazed up at him. “I just…” You sighed. “Those kids. Everyone in this school. They don’t deserve this.” You gulped. “Luce, one of them died.” You smiled a sad smile. “Elena Martin, she was an amazing kid. Gonna go to Oaks high next year. You know what she wanted to be?”

Lucifer shook his head.

You smiled. “She talked to Chloe last time you were here. She loved her, and she wanted to be an officer.” You blinked a few times. “But, she… she died, and she can’t go to Oaks or prom or even college.” You shook your head. “It’s unfair.”

“I know, darling.” Your boyfriend rubbed your back. “It’s horrifying, and I was the king of Hell.” He gulped. “If you need anything…”

“You’ll be there.” You smiled and nodded. “I know.” You kissed his cheek and snuggled into his chest. “I think… I think I just need to go home.”

Lucifer smiled. “Of course.” He kissed the top of your head. “Let’s go.”

~ - ~

You stared at the memorial. Five people died, three on the site and two in the hospital. Less than a month after the school shooting, the white wall was painted with their portraits and legacies. You left a lily on the floor and smiled at the portraits. They wouldn’t be forgotten. Mrs. Langston, Mr. Smith, Elena Martin, Indigo Newman, and Maria Sarmiento.

“Hey, (Y/n)!”

“Oh,” you smiled, “hey, Xavier.”

“You gotta check out the news. Your club owner boyfriend’s on there.”

You tilted your head. “What?”

“Come on!”

You laughed and followed your co-worker. He was right. A picture of Lucifer Morningstar, your boyfriend, was plastered on the screen. “Renown owner of Lux has suddenly pulled sponsorship to multiple companies and politicians. When asked for a statement regarding why Mr. Morningstar had made such a drastic move, he said, ‘I know evil when I see it, and anyone who supports the NRA, well, let’s just say I’ll see them well after death, if you know what I mean.’ Many other companies have started to follow in Mr. Morningstar’s steps, presumably worried that the owner of the Lux chain will do the same to them.

“Safe to say, Mr. Morningstar is a very powerful individual. He’s scared companies and politicians alike, and his recent actions have caused the hashtag, DeathToNRA, to trend in the Top Ten Hashtags for the last hour.”

You laughed and shook your head. “Classic Lucifer.”

“Uh, guys? All the kids are in the parking lot.”

You turned around, and lo and behold, all the kids, kindergarten to eighth, were outside, crowding over one car and one driver.

Y0u and all the teachers ran outside, and you laughed. “Lucy, what are you doing here?” you shouted.

“Hello, darling! Hold on one second!” He smiled at one of the seventh graders and handed him something. “I’ll be right there! Yes, um, Detective and, uh, Dan, can you hand the rest out, please. Thank you.” Lucifer jumped out of his car and ran over to you. “Hello, my darling.” He kissed you once and gestured to the crowd of students. “How do you like it?”

“Um, Luce, what exactly is, uh, it?”

“Well, isn’t it obvious? I knew the children were distressed from the incident, so I’ve decided to come bearing gifts. I was going to give them cond-”

“Lucifer!”

“I know. It’s a shame Ms. Lopez replaced all the gifts with toys and video games and those stuffed toys.”

You laughed. “Oh, thank goodness for Ella. I’ve gotta thank her next time.”

“Thank her? I beg your pardon.”

You laughed and shook your head. “And thank you, Lucifer Morningstar.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.

Lucifer hummed against your lips and pulled you closer to him by your waist. His lips left yours for a second, so he could say, “Now that’s more like it, darling.”

You laughed and kissed him quickly. “Thank you, Lucifer. Really.”

“For what?” He smirked. “You need to be more specific.”

You shook your head. “For taking me home after the incident. For being patient with me and my grieving. For pulling your sponsorships. For giving gifts to the kids.” You smiled at your students, who were getting the toys of their dreams from Dan and Chloe. “You’re amazing, Lucifer.”

Lucifer blinked, somehow shocked at that obvious piece of information. He recovered easily with a smile. “I try to be. For you. Like I told you, you’re going to be ok. As long as I’m alive.”

#lucifer netflix #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar oneshot #lucifer morningstar imagine #tw #tw: guns #tw: death #tw: shooting #tw: school shooting #tw: negative views on NRA

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eretzyisrael · 5 years

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September is a super busy time of the year for families, with millions of students returning to schools, entering new classrooms, meeting new teachers and peers, and sitting at new desks. During these first few days or weeks, parents will be watching — perhaps weepily, perhaps with relief — as their offspring disappear behind school doors, launching themselves into the next phase of their academic careers.

Doors are things we take for generally take for granted. Unless there’s a problem — the door won’t lock! — we don’t really think much about them. We talk about them more in metaphors than we do about their actual physical manifestations. We assume they keep unwanted things out and keep us safely in, but the assumption is an unconscious one.

But for one Israeli dad, Omer Barnes, who is the CEO of REMO Doors, doors are something more — and I don’t just mean his livelihood. They may be a solution to a uniquely American problem: school shootings.

For generations, parents used to assume that when their kids disappeared behind their school doors, they would be safe. That, at the end of the day, kids would walk out the doors of their schools, and walk through the ones that open into their homes and rooms, where they could talk about their days, share meals, do homework, and play pretend.

But, increasingly over the past few years, that assumption, that feeling of security, has been challenged. Since Columbine, we’ve experienced over 200 school shootings here in the U.S, with 24 school shootings taking place in 2019 alone. That’s not comparable to any other country in the world. And that reality has made the dreadful possibility of our kids not returning home from school something very real.

It was to avoid this possibility that the superintendent of Harrington Park, New Jersey — where Omer’s kids are enrolled in school — called him one day. The superintendent got word that Omer was in the door and security business, and wanted him to come check out the school’s front door and, if necessary, suggest a replacement as a way to keep out a potential shooter.

It was during this visit that Omer, a father of two, found out about what kids actually do during active shooter drills. During these drills, which now occur in just about every public school in the U.S., kids pretend as if there was an active shooter in the building. They have to hide under their desks and keep quiet and still in a dark classroom until the drill is over. Many times, these drills happen with no warning, and with no letter home to parents.

“My kids?! You’re putting my kids for 20 minutes, half an hour in the dark, and you think it’s normal?” Omer recalls asking. “I grew up with a country of terror and drills and this is wrong.”

It’s hard for us to know how effective active shooter drills really are. In fact, psychologists have noted that frequent and realistic drills can be harmful for kids, and cause anxiety and depression.

In Israel, Omer tells me, these kinds of traumatizing drills would never be acceptable. Yes, Israeli kids are familiar with terror and missile threats. For school drills, or during times of emergency, Israeli kids run to the merchav mugan, which literally means “protected space,” known colloquially as the mamad. Since the Gulf War — which Omer and I both lived through in Israel — every new construction project, from private homes to schools, have to have a designated space that is a shelter from both bombs and chemical weapons. The mamad can be any room in the house, as long as its constructed to meet certain safety standards.

And so, when there’s a missile attack, Israeli kids know to run to the mamad and shut the door. They can bring coloring books and other activities to the safe space — no silence and dark required. This doesn’t mean that they avoid trauma, however. After Operation Protective Edge, Omer tells me, one of his nieces was so traumatized by the missile alarms that she was too scared to be in her bedroom in the dark by herself. The difference here is that this type of trauma is both familiar and expected — all Israeli citizens are familiar with it, unlike the quiet trauma of American active shooter drills that exist only on school grounds.

After the meeting with the superintendent, Omer needed time to think. And, after months of research, Omer realized that changing the front doors was not a solution. After all, the shooter usually comes from inside the school — either a student or a former student. And so, he turned his attention to classroom doors.

The door that he came up with, which is made in Israel, is not just a door: made of metal, it is both fireproof and bulletproof. With the door in place, a classroom with cinderblock walls is transformed into a safe room. The idea is to recreate the mamad in every American classroom. After all, school shootings are a type of terror attack, Omer said. And who knows terror better than Israelis?

Of course, bulletproof doors are not Omer’s invention. But what he helped create is an affordable ($2,500) bulletproof door that is fast to install and easy to operate. What’s more, since the REMO door fits over the existing doorframe, it takes just under an hour to install. And the door itself has no complicated electronic mechanism, just a simple analog palm lock. When demoing the door in a classroom, he asked a 5-year-old to lock the door from the inside. The fact that he managed to do it showed to Omer that this was truly a workable solution.

Moreover, Omer hopes the doors will be so effective that they might help end school shootings altogether. Like a guard checking bags at the entrance of every building in Israel, Omer hopes that his doors will deter shooters from carrying out attacks in schools.

The doors so far have been installed in dozens of schools, including Bnos Menachem, a girl’s Yeshiva in Brooklyn, the first school to get a government grant to install the doors. Omer’s doors have also been endorsed by 25 senators after a recent visit to the senate.

The doors aren’t just about keeping kids physically sound. Omer he recalls how stressed he was when his son, 11, came back home after a drill. “There was a school shooting today but we don’t know who died,” his son told him.

Later, Omer discovered what had actually happened: “They did a drill at lunch, and one kid had a nosebleed and they saw the blood in the corridor and they thought someone died,” he said.

Active shooter drills are traumatizing, not just for the students, but for the millions of teachers who have to go through them. But with the safe doors, things are different. Once the door is locked, and the kids are safe in their classroom. They don’t need to turn off the lights. They don’t need to be quiet. Just like in the mamad, where kids and adults can entertain themselves while they wait for safety, the kids and their teachers can have a semblance of normalcy as they wait for the lockdown to end.

When there’s a lockdown drill, kids can color, read, write, or chat with each other. In other words, they can go about their day. “Suddenly, lockdown is creative time,” Omer said.

#school #Israel #Domestic terrorism #school shootings

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vampirewithbedsidemanners · 5 years

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Out of the Vault: Story Time

STORY TIME This is not a work of fiction. TRIGGER WARNING: ACTIVE SHOOTER/THREAT. If you are sensitive to the topic, dont read. This is something I wrote for myself following a pretty intense situation at work. This was a few years ago but Im leaving out names and places on purpose, still. You hear a lot about active shooters in the media but they rarely cover active shooter threats, which can take a toll as well. I saw a news report once about schools in bad neighborhoods that have regular lock downs because of shootings in the surrounding neighborhoods are giving their students PTSD just trying to protect them. I can see why. I don’t think I have PTSD, but I wont really know until I get another call like this.

I don’t think about it often. Sometimes, in the days after when the rest of the world started forgetting, I would remember it.

But most days, especially now, it was a distant nightmare. I was still a kid at the time, young and naive. I still lived in that bubble of ‘it will never happen to me’. Every close call solidified that bubble. The almost stabbing, the drug busts, the scrappy fist fights that always ended with someone getting snowed, fed the delusion. Somewhere in the middle of all of it, I knew that we were short staffed. That I shouldn’t be clearing buildings and parking lots and bathrooms with drug addicts overdosed on the floor, by myself. Most days, I didn’t even notice.

It makes you feel big, even when you’re not. 5′1″, I disappeared behind the desk at the stationary post without even trying. The other guards couldn’t get in the patrol car behind me without moving the seat back. But there was an adrenaline rush to it that made me feel like I could do this, no matter my size. I liked the work, it made me a piece of a larger puzzle.

“You better lock down the hospital, I’m coming to kill you all.”

12 words.

5 minutes before help arrived.

1 other guard.

6 buildings. 23 floors between all of them. 11 elevators. 2 pedways. A tunnel. 17 entrances.

9 parking lots.

43 employees. Roughly 100 patients.

5:30 a.m., all the doors have automatically unlocked.

We had no plan. We had no face to put to the voice. The operator who took the call was doubled over in a corner, crying. The House Supervisor was quiet. My coworker, always confident on the border of cocky, was at a loss for words.

“Do we take this threat serious.” The question hung in the air.

“We have to.” House said. And that was it. The horrible, terrible, unfair truth about threats. Bomb threats. Active Shooter threats. It didn’t matter.

Its real until it’s not.

I used to write about how adrenaline rushes make you numb to the pain. I slammed my hand in the first door, trying to get it to lock. I was at the end of a long hallway, outside the Emergency Room. It was the first external door I passed on the way into the rest of the hospital. I felt the pain in my hand, even though the adrenaline was pumping. My palms were sweaty, and I was out of breath. I had to jump up over and over, swiping at the off button before I could lock the door.

As I ran down the hall towards the surgery area, all I could think was ‘I should have started at the main lobby.’ These long hallways with nowhere to hide would have made me an easy target. One short, out of breath, underpaid and overworked guard with a thousand keys and blood dripping down her hand because she was clumsy and couldn't lock a door, target.

The surgery entrance door stands open when you turn off the box. I didn’t know that at the time. I could feel the seconds ticking by as I struggled with it. In hindsight, I should have just locked the inner door and been done with it. They were glass anyways, and definitely not bullet proof. Anyone who wanted to get in wouldn't have been deterred by glass.

By the time I hit the pedway, I felt sick. It had been 2 minutes since I had started locking down the hospital, something that we had no plan or procedure for. Somewhere between day surgery and the pedway, I started to get tunnel vision. I don’t remember my thought process for calling my husband, and I vaguely recall what I actually said on the voicemail. My words were kind of hard to make out over the sound of me running down a flight of stairs.

‘I love you. I’ll be home late. Don’t freak out, but we have a Code Black at East. I love you.’ It was all I could make out. The first time I listened to it, a few weeks after that day, all I could remember thinking was ‘this could have been the last thing he ever heard from me.’

When I reached the main lobby, I started moving people away from windows and down into hallways. Registration helped some, mostly with moving benches. No one really knew what to do. Someone brought me a printout. Cops had arrived, there was just 2 patrol cars parked outside the Emergency Department. More were coming. They traced the number and got an ID. I was expecting a mugshot, not a military ID. The grainy black and white photo did very little to help with identification. I was looking for a black man, in his early 20’s, of unknown height or weight, neither of which are listed. I stood by the door, vetting everyone that came in. More cops showed up, some in undercover vehicles, some off duty in their own cars. It became harder and harder to tell what was suspicious from what wasn’t. I think by that point, the paranoia had set in. Even if the cops had more info than I did, they would have had just as hard a time picking a non-descript black man out in a crowd.

A man in sweats approached the front door. He had walked past the off-duty cop parked in front. The cop started opening his door to get out, or at least that is what my brain saw. It could have been anything, or nothing. I didn’t know. It was the hoodie that caught me off guard. Baggy clothes conceal everything. His hood was up, hands in his pockets. I couldn’t see his face.

It played out like one of those dreams where you’re cornered and scrambling and trying to get the words out, but you can’t. I was shaking so hard I could barely hold the glass sliding doors as I tried to force them back together. He walked at a normal pace, at ease. There was nothing aside from the clothes and skin color to say that this was the caller, but I was terrified that it was, regardless of the statistics. Looking back, I must have looked like a mess. Here I was, shaky and out of breath, struggling to push together glass doors that didn’t actually lock to stop a potential shooter who would just break them down anyways instead of running away. My voice was gone, as was all the air in my lungs. I’ve seen videos, of cops shooting suspects that were already down because of adrenaline. It gets to be too much, and they start to twitch and accidentally pull the trigger. I imagine, this is what that would feel like. We’re all human, after all.

When he pulled out his hospital badge, I thought I might actually start crying from relief.

It was over in under 10 minutes, but I was still shaky 2 and a half hours later when they found him and I was finally sent home.

People at work said that it wasn’t real, because nothing happened. People, mostly the other guards, who were called in and showed up after the site was swarming with law enforcement. We had half the police force, it seemed like, between the off duty and the incoming shift. State troopers were combing the surrounding interstates. Military police were waiting at the caller’s residency. But there was just the two of us for those first 5 minutes. Before police were there, before we had any answers. We had to pick and choose what entrances to lock because there was no way to lock them all. We ignored entire buildings because there was too much ground to cover. If he had been sitting in his car in the parking lot when he called, it wouldn’t have mattered if the cops were called or the military police involved.

I would have been a target for the uniform I wore. Patients might have been fine. Nurses, too. Doctors maybe. The floors would have gone untouched. But the two of us would have been shot at, even if he didn’t hit either one.

Troopers found the caller overdosed in his car 3 miles from the hospital. He had a gun, but only a handful of bullets. Even if he had shown up, he was too messed up to do anything and would have quickly been taken down. They gave him Narcan, and the Military police took him away. I found out later when I was looking over the list of charges that he had also called the fire department and told them the hospital was on fire and that they needed to evacuate us. Someone said he wanted pain pills and the doctor said no because he was a junkie, but I’m not really sure why he did it. It doesn’t really matter. He was sentenced to 15 years for the civil side of things and court marshaled for conduct by the military. He will spend the better part of the next two decades in a military prison serving two consecutive sentences. 15 years and then another 5 for the military.

The hospital had forgotten by shift change. I had been held over 15 and a half hours because of the lockdown. I would have gotten off at 6 a.m. that morning. When I came in the next night, no one really talked about it. I guess that means I did my job. My debriefing was 10 minutes, and didn’t cover anything, really. The hospital locked down the truth and smoothed things over with the local paper. They didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.

We were 3 miles and 5 bullets away from a Code Silver, active shooter.

But nothing happened so it wasn’t real, right?

Tags: @fanfiction-trashpile

#out of the vault #active shooter threat #personal

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