December 14: A bomb threat at Sandy Hook on the anniversary of the 2012 mass shooting

Imagine you’re seated in class at your elementary school. Your teacher talks about how today you’ll be learning to divide; you gleam with newfound excitement, eager to start this path towards knowledge that seems to be opening up for you.

Suddenly, you hear a sound–a sound that scares you to your bones and spends creepy chills down your spine: the school’s alarm is blaring and someone’s voice has announced that the school is on lockdown and everyone has to get out immediately.

Only being at the peak of your very first years of living, you’re utterly confused about the current situation and yet, despite not having a clue what’s going on, you can sense the clear desperation that oozes out of your teacher’s body as she rushes all her students to start running out with shaky hands. You can sense the inevitable fear that blooms from inside your very soul. You can sense the anxiousness that overtakes everybody in the building as they run in single files toward the nearest exit.

Bodies push past each other in a desperate and reckless manner, unconsciously wondering what’s going on and if they’ll survive and if they’ll see their loved ones ever again and if they will be okay after this–whatever this is.

After the built up tension slowly leaves everyone’s lungs as they release a bottled sigh of relief, you’re explained what went on: your school had been threatened and told there was a phone-in bomb awaiting to burst, all after the same place had experienced a horrible mass shooting just six years ago.

This happened today at Sandy Hook Elementary School, where multiple people were suddenly evacuated after having gotten a call at 9 a.m., which had told them there was a possible bomb threat.

Knowing the school’s history–that in which on December 14, 2012, 26 innocent people lost their lives to a mass shooting–evacuation was the best possible outcome today.

Bomb, mass shooting, and many other types of threats seem to be the norm nowadays.

The lives of those who died in the hands of weapons in Sandy Hook a day like today, six years ago, are still being remembered.

But what about the lives that are lost every single day to gun violence–let alone children’s?

They should all be remembered and mourned.

But wouldn’t it be better to just solve this enormous issue of weapon-related violence, instead of holding even more of these innocent souls in our thoughts and prayers?

Advertisements

I live in fear

Despite hearing the constant cries for help that come out of so many children, teenagers, and even adults’ mouths, it appears no one can hear them.
So many lives have been lost this year alone that it’s atrocious.
Despite us asking for such simple changes in our government, more guns are being handed out in silver platters to children, heartless people and worse.
At this point in my life, I can’t go on with my day without hearing on the news a report about a school shooting; Continue reading “I live in fear”

Humans of MLEC: A Coming Out to Remember

From an interview with Angelica Abreu (Freshman)

“My dad texted me and he was like ‘if you wanna talk to me, just know that I’m here,’ so I was like ‘what?’ I thought he was talking about my brother or something and then he goes ‘yeah you can talk to me, I’m here.’ So then I called him and he goes ‘I saw the texts you sent Nick (my step brother)’ and I said ‘what texts?’ and he said ‘the one that you sent where you came out,’ so I told him ‘um, we’ll talk about that later’ and then hung up. Continue reading “Humans of MLEC: A Coming Out to Remember”

I am my hands

I am my hands. As I gaze upon these two vital parts of my body whose importance and valuable assistance in my daily life I often give for granted, I contemplate the overwhelming and numerous thoughts that seem to emerge as I keep looking at them.

I can almost tell my whole life’s story just by looking at them. Starting from my long and hairy-knuckled (which I’m honestly not very proud of) fingers; one of them in which lies the precious gold and black ring that my mother bestowed onto me about a year ago. Continue reading “I am my hands”

My Work on Maelstrom Zine!

A few days (maybe weeks) back, I decided to submit my article on the women elected for both Congress and governor in the United States. Given the fact that Maelstrom was working on their 4th issue on Feminism, I thought it was a great way to show off my work to the public and overall just my thoughts on the feminist movement and my high hopes for women in the US and around the world.

Today, I am honored to say that my work was chosen to be published and that a wider audience is able to get a glimpse on my views and my writing and that is just amazing. Continue reading “My Work on Maelstrom Zine!”

The Blacklist

The street is filthy. As I walk through it, I can’t help but scrunch my face in disgust when my nostrils fill up with that wretched smell coming from the trash scattered all over the sidewalk. “I simply can’t believe that I have to meet this man at such a gruesome place,” I think to myself as I stop next to some shop called ‘Things n Stuff’ to wait for the aforementioned. I take my phone out of my soft brown coat’s pocket to distract myself from all the commotion around me, but I can’t seem to concentrate on it with all the noise around me—dogs barking ceaselessly, women screaming at each other, cars honking loudly. I then decide to call him. “Hey it’s me. Where are you?” Continue reading “The Blacklist”

All the wonderful things to be thankful for

It’s been a few days since Thanksgiving occurred and I keep wondering why it was chosen by people to make this the one day a year in which they sit down to think about what they’re thankful for. I mean, you get 365 —or 366, it depends— days a year, and you really only pick one to sit down and thank whoever or whatever you want, when there are endless things that we can and should be grateful for every single day of our lives? Continue reading “All the wonderful things to be thankful for”

Music Turned Into Writing: I don’t want to be you anymore

I’ve always wanted to be the star of the show. It might sound narcissistic but, honestly, being the main focus of everything always felt really good and right—like it was meant to be for me. Growing up I had everything to make it possible for me to stand out: the personality, the charisma, what my teachers called the ‘spark’, the talents, the easygoing nature, etc. So, it was never hard for me to fit in anywhere and always have massive crowds of people after or with me at all times. Continue reading “Music Turned Into Writing: I don’t want to be you anymore”

Tiny

Can you see me? Are you even aware I’m here? Because it feels like you aren’t.

Do you even know my name, my passions, my story? So why judge me already?

I feel tiny under your strict gaze, which from time to time shifts to a softer one, but then it all just goes back to how it was before.

It’s sad feeling tiny and useless.

It’s sad feeling like this all the time. Continue reading “Tiny”

And It Only Gets Louder

It gets louder and louder—the pain, I mean.

I wonder: how?

How can it be possible for a physical sensation to get louder with every second that passes?

I don’t know. But it just keeps getting louder.

Every scream and profanity just keeps getting louder.

The toxic masculinity that rolls off his tongue continuously stabs my poor heart and damages the loving memories that I had of him.

She can only respond with a soft, almost broken “lower your voice.”

The pain resonates throughout the entire house and as much as I’d like to cancel it out with my bedroom doors that usually keep all bad things away, it just gets louder and louder.

And then the noise stops—so does my heart. Continue reading “And It Only Gets Louder”