School Shooting at Northern Illinois University
It’s been a stressful week. I have midterms for winter quarter and a new role at work with much more responsibility. Today was the release of an alpha version of our newest software package, and I had one hour left, exactly enough time to hit our deadline.
I was always jealous of people who had lived in one place all their lives, because they had best friends from childhood. That jealousy was curbed when I realized I had a best friend too - my brother. My brother and I are closer than any other brother/sister pair I know. People think it’s strange I consider my brother my best and dearest childhood friend, but I don’t care. That’s what happens when you’re an Air Force brat living overseas - when your entire world changes on a yearly basis, you cling to the one thing that stays constant - your family.
My brother called me at 4pm, right in the midst of my crazy deadline mayhem. “Hey, I can’t talk right now. Let me call you back.”
“Oh.”
“… Is it something important?”
“I just wanted to let you know I’m okay. I don’t know if you heard on the news, but there was a shooting at NIU today.”
My heart stopped. A little message at the corner of the screen popped up showing a new message from one of my coworkers. “Breaking News: NIU Shooting.” Right.
The shooting took place in the commons right next to my brother’s dorm. In the buildings my brother was at 10 minutes earlier.
Immediately after hanging up, I was bombarded by what ifs. What if my brother had been there 10 minutes later? What if the shooter had opened fire a few buildings over? What if there was another shooter? I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to get into my non-existent car and drive to DeKalb.
I did nothing. Technically, I sat there silently, calmly, and finished my work for the day, though I still have no idea if it is correct. But I had a deadline, and “what ifs” don’t count as emergencies. My brother was safe, the campus was locked down, and there was nothing I could do.
The Valentine’s Day flowers sitting on my desk had been the highlight of my day a few hours earlier; now, wilted, they reminded me of funerals. It’s amazing how things can change so quickly.
I considered skipping my evening marketing class, but what was the point? To sit at home by myself in an empty condo? To be without distractions so I could concentrate fully on being helpless and sad? So I went and preoccupied myself by talking to all the happy people desensitized to school shootings.
Now I’m finally home, and I can finally cry. Cry for the victims. Cry for their families. Cry for the victims’ lost futures.
Logic rarely fails me, but school shootings transcend logic. Just like I can’t argue with an illogical statement, I can’t comprehend an illogical act.
The only thing I understand is that my brother is still alive. My heart goes out to the families that can’t say the same.