MADI'S ESSAY

My name is Madison Leal, I am currently a junior attending Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School. As I am processing the horrific mass shooting that occurred on February 14, 2018. I decided to translate my feelings into words. Feelings of sadness, hatred, anger, shock, and guilt.

 

Roughly five years ago, my best friend, my soulmate, my hero, my big sister Bailey (who was a junior attending Marjory Stoneman Douglas at the time) took her own life. With the passing of my sister, I realized the magnitude of such an act as I witnessed the profound impact it had not only on me, but also my family and my community. As my sister Marisa put it, explaining where our hometown is located is like a jigsaw puzzle. 25 degrees west of Coral Springs, 89 degrees north of Fort Lauderdale,

 

somewhere south of Boca Raton. Parkland has been my home my entire life. A home that is full of joy and loving residents. A home that was voted the safest city in the entire state of Florida. My tight-knit community responded to my sister’s passing with an outpour of love and support. Since then, I have devoted my life in honor of my sister to make other people believe that even through the darkest of times, they too will survive. Each year, my family and community honor my sister Bailey by hosting a “Yogathon” event to raise mental health awareness through the power of yoga. Just two weeks ago, I stood in front of my city at Pine Trails park with a message to inspire, elevate, and unite people in the midst of the darkest of times. Little did I know that just two weeks later that the same park would be filled with thousands of people mourning the loss of 17 innocent and beautiful lives from the Douglas massacre.

 

February 14, 2018, is a heart-stabbing date that will forever be engraved in the mind of my community, our country, and the world. It was a normal day at Marjory Stoneman Douglas; same routine, same faces, same classes, same atmosphere. Earlier that day, around 10 a.m. we had a fire drill. Then, around 2:35 p.m. a second fire alarm of the day went off, this was unusual. This time, the alarm sound pierced my ears as my gut told me something was not right. In a heartbeat, my classmates and I frantically ran out the room fearing that a fire had started in our building. As soon as we arrived in the parking lot, we heard other students crying and screaming “CODE RED,” “GO BACK INSIDE,” “TAKE COVER.” Code Red means there is an active shooter on campus, it was surreal, an active shooter in my school? At that moment, everyone switched into survival mode and in a matter of seconds we found ourselves running for our lives. The

piercing ring of the gunshots constantly replay in my mind. Fearing for my life, I sprinted along with my friends back to my classroom. My teacher not only made sure my classmates and I made it back into the classroom safely, but she also brought in special needs kids who needed help. Her hand was shaking as she locked the classroom door, and in an instant, we all took positions in the corner of a dark room. I found my way in the deepest corner, underneath a couch. Fearing the worst outcome – with tears streaming down my face – I texted my family and told them that I loved them. I prayed that I would make it out alive. My sister Marisa texted me back and said, “I love you, everyone loves you, Bailey is looking out for you, pray to Bailey.” It was in that moment that I began to pray to my guardian angel.

 

My heart raced as I did not know the location of the shooter. The next two and a half hours turned into a lifetime of horror. Around 4:45 p.m., a loud banging came from the door and the sound of shattered glass erupted. My heart sank as I believed that the shooter had found us. I could not fathom the idea that my life was soon going to end. In an instant, my feelings of fear disappeared as the SWAT team entered the door; I never thought I would feel so relieved in

my life to see armed officers. My classmates and I quickly ran out of the school across the street with our hands above our heads. Once I was out of Douglas, it hit me like a real bullet.

 

Hundreds, I mean HUNDREDS of cops, ambulances, SWAT teams, helicopters, and news reporters surrounded my school. I was in utter disbelief and begged those around me to wake me up from the horrific nightmare. As my classmates and I crossed the street, we all burst into tears and hugged one another as we were so glad to be alive. Soon after, I reunited and collapsed in my father’s arms. As the feeling of relief came to me, I could not hold in the feeling of sadness and guilt as I heard there were a number of fatalities. Later that night I found out that 17 individuals, 17 families were not as fortunate as I was. 17 individuals who had a bright future and life ahead of them. 17 individuals whose only crime was to go to school that day. 17 individuals who never got the chance to say goodbye to their loved ones. 17 individuals who woke up and thought they’d crawl back in that same bed they could barely get out of that morning. Now those beds are empty and their houses are filled with mourning loved ones and old memories. My heart weighs heavy for those families that will never have the opportunity to make more memories with their loved ones, just as I experienced it with the sudden passing of my sister Bailey. As this nightmare replays in my mind, I only wish that I could have done something to prevent this, something to save a life. I never knew a day full of love could so quickly turn into a day full of violence and hatred.

 

I’m not only writing this to simply tell you about what happened to me, to my High School. I’m writing this so that we can make a change and stop a tragedy like this from ever happening again to another town. Our school wasn’t the first-but together we can make it the last. There haven’t been any major changes in the federal laws since the Sandy Hook shooting that killed 27 innocent lives. Why? How many more of these tragedies do we have to have before something is done? How many more lives have to be taken?

- A school
- A concert
- A church
- A movie theatre - A restaurant
- An airport

 

Guns do not discriminate, rather they feed on hate. There are car accidents and drug overdoses- the tragedies we hear quite often that make you shake and think, “that will never happen to me.” But something like this? I’m at a complete loss of words. For over 2 hours I hid in the corner of a room praying I would make it out alive. I saw my life flash before my eyes. No kid should ever have to experience what we experienced, we didn’t deserve this. I knew I had to stay strong for myself, my family, and all of the kids around me. I held my fellow classmates’ hands and reassured them that we would be okay. I chose to love. Love my classmates, love my teacher who protected us, love my family, and my school. I refuse to be the same hate that tried to break my school apart today. Douglas was never a “bad” school. Douglas is not a bad school. I am beyond traumatized and heartbroken. I have been struck with fear, tragedy, and most of all, anger. I am hurt. I pray to each and every one of the innocent, beautiful souls who lost their lives on February 14th, and I promise to every angel that our voices will not go unheard. We have reached the time where ENOUGH IS ENOUGH, and the time for action is NOW.

 

Nobody with a history of mental problems should be able to purchase an AR-15. In fact, no private citizen in our country should
be able to purchase an AR-15. This horrific act could have been prevented. Prevented by tougher GUN laws, prevented by our agencies following standard procedures (FBI), and prevented by providing people with mental health issues the help they need. Since the Sandy Hook shooting, nearly 400 innocent lives have been lost in roughly 200 school shootings. You must think of the survivors of these horrific acts, the thousands of students who watched their classmates/friends/teachers/faculty members die, the thousands of students that now don’t know if they will make it back home safe from their schools, and the thousands of students who are forced to go back to school and feel the emptiness left by those who departed.

 

We are the generation that will grow up remembering the traumatizing mass shootings. I promise that if our officials do not take charge and act upon gun control and mental health, WE WILL. Way too many innocent lives have been lost. I wonder how an elected official would feel if his or her child was a victim of the mass shooting. I wonder how they would feel if their child was in a hospital fighting for his or her life. Would they have the courage to make changes?

My message still remains clear: “To those suffering, I promise you that through the darkest of times, you will survive.” My heart aches 17 times for our coaches, teachers, siblings, and children we have to bury. My heart aches for all of the victims’ families. My heart aches for my community, our country, and humanity. Never again will I hear the names of my deceased friends, fellow classmates, and faculty members who deserved nothing but love and happiness. I refuse to let another soul be taken away from their loved ones due to gun violence without taking action. Shattered windows, heartless shots, lifeless bodies, broken hearts, destroyed dreams. I ask again, “How many more lives will it take before action is taken?” Our community took 17 bullets straight to the heart. It is time for a change; We students deserve change. Never before have I been so proud to not only be an Eagle but be a resident of Parkland. My eyes fill with tears as I watch the students of my school stand together as one and urge for change. We are Douglas STRONG, we are Parkland STRONG. We will make a difference.

 

 

- Madison Leal, Branches of Bravery Co-Founder