By Nicolette Harris

I can see, but I am blinded. I can speak, but I am dumb. I can move, but I am stunned. I can feel, but I am numb.

Feelings overwhelm me. I feel anger, sorrow, mourning, sympathy, confusion, death, awakening, truth, meaning, and most of all——life. The realization that we must pull together and fight hate is becoming clear now.

They taped it. And watched it. Over, and over.

But everyone knows what happened. They felt all those emotions. Confused, they didn’t know what to do as it entered their bodies. The event is embroidered into a quilt of emotions. It is glued to our consciousness and has filled our thoughts forever. It was planned perfectly yet the plan held so many faults. Preventive systems were overlooked. There is now a very deep dent in Mother Nature. And it feels as though the earth has been covered in a smoke of hatred. Security increased and protection was critical. It is as though a labyrinth has been built around us to trap and confuse us.

Work is now an issue for some. I am thankful that my mom and dad got to come home safely. Lots of moms and dads did not make it home that night.

I can still remember that night. My dad, step-mom, two stepbrothers, stepsister, and I all held candles in a moment of silence for those who died with our neighbors. I wished that my mom was there to hold my hand, but knowing she was just a car ride away was reassuring. I also knew that I was a little safer since I was in San Diego. I remember that my paper candleholder folded in, and the blood red wax dripped onto my sensitive hands. But I didn’t scream. I just stood there until the moment of silence was over. And when it ended, I peeled the wax off and stared deeply into the red mark. I knew that even if the red mark faded (which it did), I would always feel it.

Then I started to realize that in everything you do, you feel something. And at that moment, I felt life.