has it been really 11 years since that awful day. I remember it so vividly, but yet certain things about that day pop out in my mind. Like, how my friends ALL left me running and I kinda stood there in amazement. Not sure about what noises were coming from the halls. Or the mere fact that I was almost about to testify again Andy Williams for the Santana High School shooting. Feeling like, this is only my freshman year and I'm already experiencing a life changing event. But to be clear, it did not affect in the ways it did to many others. I remember standing in a circle with some of my friends and then in an instant we heard noises or as I thought a possible fight happening in the hallway only a few feet away. People were screaming and running, but I really thought, heck a fight I wanna know what's going on. I'm not sure what brought me to move closer to the noise when all I saw were people screaming and running for what looked like their lives. As I got closer, and mind you all by myself, I spotted Andy Williams. And this is where it gets so hazy for me. I saw the gun and heard one last fire. But his face didn't really stick out to me. Nor did the fact of how close I really was. It didn't make me feel like, Mireya what the heck are you doing RUN! I looked and finally a classmate, who by the way me and him were not on the best terms, we kinda hated each other, told me to book it. Run, Mireya, what are you doing?! What was I doing?! Did I wanna be some hero and run behind to tackle him down?! I honestly don't know what brought me closer to that faithful day, but something did and I truly feel I was being watched over by an angel. How I didn't get hit, I'm still not sure.
When the school reopened for a visit around campus I stood with my mom the exact place I was March 5, 2001. She held me and just cried. But I wasn't in shock. I still don't know how I handled it so well, but I wasn't throwing my body around, acting like, oh my gosh, I really could have gotten shot. I was ok with it. And I still am. Of course I grieve for the two boys who were murdered that day. But I kinda coped with it and went on. Maybe I didn't, who knows. Many people ask me how I'm not traumatized by the whole ordeal and I don't know myself. I mean, almost having to testify if he didn't plead guilty, or knowing that he was always in the same apt.'s I lived in. It still does boggle my mind, and many times more than not I feel a sense of guilt that I'm not more sad about that day. Or I don't act as affected. I guess I just handed it. Or just haven't handled it yet. Who knows. But I feel like I'm really ok. The counselors at school tried attempting counseling for me, but I wasn't too into it.
I just still can't believe it's been eleven years since I became part of history in a lil' town called Santee. I always hated getting that, "Oh were you there that day?" Everyone knew what 'that day' meant. I would say yes and move on. I did not want a million questions thrown at me, so I guess that was my own way of coping with it. Just shrugging my shoulders and moving on. I hated the pity on people's faces. But that day doesn't define me and never will. I was part of a tragic, awful day, but I've moved past it.
I just pray for those families who lost a soul that died way to young. Two young boys died. And I can't imagine the lose the families are feeling today. I hope God holds them in this time of sadness and anger.
here's a pic of today
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