#burystrong

BY AMANDA BIEDERMAN

Gull Life Editor

Students strain through a crowd in the dark. Police lights blink in the distance. The world has become confused.

Standing amongst my frightened peers, I can't help but feel lost. This isn't supposed to happen here. It's so easy to talk about the dangerous crime rate in Salisbury. So many awful things happen every day, and it's easy to talk about how horrible it is. How sad this world can be.

But the shock doesn't really hit me until I see a mother running through the crowd, screaming in desperation.

"Not my son!" she wails. "Oh God...Oh God! It's my son!"

Her voice is broken, her body seemingly moving without conscious thought. I know I can't even imagine the extent of woman's pain, but I feel a dull ache in my stomach and suddenly, reality hits.

It could have been anyone. Me. My best friends. My roommates. The girl in the crowd, who told me how surreal it seems that something this awful could happen so close to campus.

Because this is our school. It's supposed to be safe. Bad things aren't supposed to happen here.

And as Sheriff Mike Lewis gathers the crowd to deliver a statement, he reassures us that we are safe.

"There is no reason to be alarmed," he says. "As you well know, this is unprecedented to happen so close to SU."

SU President Janet Dudley-Eshbach adds that she is doing everything she can, and our campus is not in danger. But I don't really hear either of them. As I try to scribble down every word they say, the numbers ring through my ears.

Three shot. Two dead, non-students. Shooter one of the dead. One wounded, a student. Female.

Across the street, I see a small enclosed circle of mourners, one girl sobbing. I don't know what to do. The street is in chaos, as everyone tries to absorb what has happened.

Our small community - not just Salisbury University, but the city itself - has been shaken. And for myself, I feel numb. I don't know where I belong. I know I can't possibly feel the broken pain of a mother who lost her son.

* * * * * * * *

But a few hours later, the tragedy suddenly becomes sickeningly more real. I find out that the girl who was shot was someone I knew freshman year. Even though we weren't particularly close, it hurts to be able to connect a face to a name. I can't escape from the news anymore - it has suddenly hit so much closer to home. We never think about these things until they actually happen.

The reality is that this is our community. It's our duty, in this time of tragedy, to provide support to everyone in any way we can.

If one remotely good thing could possibly come out of these horrible events, it's that it's made me realize how much I appreciate those around me. My friends, my family, my classmates.