![]() I walk very cautiously down the sidewalks now for no apparent reason. Other things, even very small things, alarm me more than they used to. Everyone started to laugh at me, until I told them that I was a Columbine student. I immediately ducked into a fetal position, covering the back of my neck with my hands. For instance, I went to Elitch's a few days ago, and a balloon popped while I was standing in line to get on the Mind Eraser. I learned that many people at school who I thought I really didn't like, I love them all!. ![]() But they had taken the panels out of the ceiling to lift girls through who couldn't breathe, and they kept all of us quiet so that we couldn't be heard outside. It was kind of funny, because many of these boys are thought of as goofy kids in everyday life. ![]() If it hadn't been for all of them, none of us would have known what to do. There was a group of about six boys who literally saved all of our lives. There were people I hardly knew who were comforting me, hugging me and telling me that everything was going to be O.K. Some of the good began even before everything was over, while I still was in the choir office with 60 other students. How could there ever be a reason for something like this to happen, and what good could ever come from it? Well, as each day goes by now, I am seeing more and more good that is coming from it. ?Īt first when this happened, people kept telling me that ''Everything happens for a reason.'' That line made me so angry. Would they say I lived my life to the fullest. When I realized this, I started to wonder about how I would be remembered how friends and family would see my life. I realized that I could have been one of the students who didn't make it out alive. He never saw me.Īfter the incident, I had time to reflect on what happened. Eric moved back to the computer desks to reload his shotgun while Dylan came up the middle section and walked by the desk I was under. They walked across the section I was in and into the reference section, where they shot more people under the desks. They started systematically shooting under desks and laughing about what they had done. ![]() He then joined Eric by the computer desks. I don't know if he was shooting at the phone or the teacher. Dylan stopped by the main desk and shot behind it. Very soon after, Eric and Dylan entered the library. While under the desk, I could hear gunshots and explosions in the commons below the library. She ran behind the main desk and told us to get under our desks. I was at a desk in the middle section when a teacher came running into the library. When it started, I was in the library doing homework for history class. TOM KUNTZīefore I can go through what I learned from the tragedy at Columbine High School on April 20, I would like to retrace the incident. Many wrote that their lives had been profoundly changed. Others had been close to one or another victim. Others knew the killers as classmates in one of Mr. Some of those who submitted essays had survived the rampage by hiding in the library or an office. Johnson, had his senior psychology students write essays on how they had been affected by the April 20 massacre - in which two alienated seniors, Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris, killed 12 students and a teacher before committing suicide. With four Columbine seniors, including the two killers, among those lost to the violence, the school's Class of '99 prepared for a bittersweet graduation yesterday - capping a week in which a new school shooting in Georgia added further urgency to efforts to control firearms.Įarlier, some Columbine seniors had marked their difficult passage in another way: A teacher, Thomas E. But nothing so innocent and uncomplicated could suffice at Columbine High School in Littleton, Colo., scene of the nation's worst student shooting rampage a month ago. THIS is the time of year when high school graduates scrawl happy and tender sentiments in each other's yearbooks.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |