Life, death and appreciation

After graduating high school, I was looking into applying to the right Cegep to further my education. Here in Quebec (Canada) the last year of High School is grade 11 and from there we go into the first half of post-secondary education, what we call Cegep. In January of 2006, I began my studies at Dawson college, a Cegep in the downtown area of Montreal. It all began as a new adventure, a time to develop new skills and discover a whole new world outside of that sheltered High School life. When I first entered the school, my initial thoughts were those of a person entering a safe educational environment. Never had it crossed my mind that anything could go awry, as I was in a protected environment beginning a new and exciting chapter in my life. The only aspect I had to worry about was the fact that I got accepted into an English school after spending my entire life in the French school system. The stressors of trying to keep up were quite prominent in my mind. The semester went by considerable ease, I was connecting with new people while making new friends. The classes were stimulating, and my major was exciting. After all, I had decided to enroll in the Film Studies program and the digital arts have always pushed me to explore beyond the mundane curriculum I once knew. Things were going smoothly and life for me was like any regular 17-year-old out there, with school and part time work taking up most of my time. There wasn’t much else to fit into my already busy schedule. By the time summer came along, I had made a good group of friends to create new memories while enjoying the long break ahead. Summer eventually came to an end, and I was excited for the next semester.

The summer went by quickly, and classes started the first week after Labor Day weekend. Two weeks into class, I was just starting to settle in and was delighted to have classes with friends from the previous semester. Classes are always more bearable when taken with familiar faces. I was about two weeks into the course load, September 13th, 2006, to be precise, the day seemed to be progress with a bit of an eery feeling. It was a little past 12:30 in the afternoon and I had just finished lunch with some of my classmates. Making my way back to the lower atrium, I was headed to the locker area to grab some items for my one o’clock French class. The atrium was built in a way that you could see all three levels of it, almost like 3 open balconies stacked one on top of the other and the lockers were at the lowest level. At the underground level, to be exact. It was a few minutes past 12:30pm when I thought I grabbed everything out of my locker. I began to make my way up the escalators that connected the atrium levels, when I realized I forgot one last thing in my locker. So, I made my way back down from the street-level atrium back down to the lower atrium. Amid heading back to my locker, I bumped into a friend of mine and told her to wait for me as we each had a class at the same time and in the same direction. After grabbing a dictionary from my locker, I walked back to my friend as she grabbed a few last items. We finally packed up our stuff, when I heard a noise that sounded like a firecracker or stink bomb. We both looked at each other, as I said to her “I wonder what idiot decided to bring a stink bomb to school”. We laughed and mentioned how we would probably have to smell that for the rest of the day. The second we completed that thought process, I suddenly heard screams reverberating through the atrium. The noise was getting intense, as students began to run full force fear overcame and I froze. It became clear to my friend and I that this was no longer a normal situation. Those sounds were evidently gun shots and we needed to act fast. It almost took me an eternity to realize what was happening and my friend had to grab me and guide me to go hide behind the lockers.

I eventually realized that there was no way out, as the exit doors to the underground tunnels shut automatically during an emergency. Waiting was the only option, I thought about going back up the escalators and through the main entrance. The only problem, the shooter was located right above us and if we went up, he would have more targets. So, we decided to stay hidden and silent behind the rows of lockers. Many shots were fired, one unlucky student died that day, and many were injured. Calling a loved one was almost impossible as the cellphone signals were overrun with millions of phone calls being made at once. This was the first time, and the last, that I forgot my cellphone at home. We were stuck in hiding for over two hours, while cops and swat teams surrounded the school. The shooter was eventually taken down and dragged out of the school. After this, the swat team began evacuating each level of the atrium starting with the mid-level that was in plain sight. At this point, none of us knew if this was the only perpetrator. The lower atrium, where I was hiding, was the last place to get evacuated. Seeing the swat team come down on us in full uniforms, commanding us to walk single file through the corridors and out the front entrance was terrifying. The feeling of terror was heavy in the pit of my stomach as they told us to keep our hands up to our heads. Maybe they weren’t sure if there was still an armed man in the crowd, so they were taking precautions as they emptied out the school. I finally saw the from entrance ahead, not that it was a great distance from the locker area, but terror makes time go by very slow. As I followed the line of students out the door, the swat team advised us to keep our eyes pointed ahead. Although, I couldn’t help by tilt my vision to my right as I kept walking along the walls of the building. That’s when I noticed the blood trail, leading to a cop car, they attempted to hide the body.

As a student, I never expected to be pushed into a near death experience. While living through an event like this, I had many thoughts run through my head on a consistent level. Though, the most prominent thought was that of fear. The fear of not making it out alive and the possibility of not being able to see my loved ones again. From the moment we were guided out of that school on that day, it was important for me and my friends to go back to class. To not let evil acts stop us from moving forward. Since this event, I see life under a very different colored lens. Learning to cope with everything life brings me is a challenge, anxieties are much more prominent, but I am willing to take I all on with strength and courage. Since then, I have had the joy of watching friends raise their kids, loved ones getting married and much more. That day has taught me to enjoy every second of life and to appreciate the small things. Fifteen years later, I am stronger, and I am slowly learning to navigate this crazy world while taming the anxieties created by that one crazy day in history.