by Lyra Pinner
The dead of winter was wrapping its claws around the capital city: dead
trees, gray skies, a blanket of desolation and hopelessness settling onto each block
Amara passed on the walk home. She didn’t bother looking both ways as she crossed
the empty street. So what if someone hit her? She wasn’t so scared of death anymore,
now that she’d been dealing with its aftermath for almost a year. Instead, she was
completely numb.
A dog barked in the distance, and she reached the other side of the sidewalk
alive. Josh wasn’t. He could have been. But he wasn’t.
She used to cry every time she thought about him in the weeks after it had happened. Thought about his face, his lips, the way he had talked, the way he had talked to her. He had loved her. She had loved him. Things had been so beautiful then, just as beautiful as the April day he was taken away from her forever.
She used to cry harder when she thought about how he’d died. She hadn’t been there to witness it, but even so, bloody scenarios she couldn’t help imagining had flashed before her every time she closed her eyes. Nightmares had haunted her with non-memories. The look on his face as he was shot. The fear in his eyes, and then the lifelessness.
She turned the corner onto her street. The trauma would have been worse if she had, of course, and she was glad she hadn’t. But back then, she’d thought that maybe she could have said goodbye. Maybe she could have saved him.
And that had been the kicker. The trigger. The one thought that always pointed to the truth: someone could have saved him. Someone could have been prevented it from happening at all, whole months or years in advance.
The truth was what had made her cry the hardest.
The school could have started locking more doors. Could have started checking for IDs more thoroughly. Could have installed metal detectors. Amara and Josh’s lives could have gone on as usual. Amara’s sister Amie could have gone on feeling safe at her middle school. And Amara’s high school could have avoided becoming another stain on a map that was already drenched in blood.
Could have, could have, could have… So many could-haves.
But she was apathetic to the pain by now, just as cold to it as the rain that was sure to fall this evening would be to the dull ground. It was the only thing left to be.
Because things like this would only keep happening. The politicians, the board members, they didn’t care about the kids in the public school system, and they never would. They didn’t know what it was like to be part of this dangerous generation. They didn’t grow up with their loved ones getting shot, never felt the terror of knowing they could have ended up the same way if a killer had shown up in their classroom instead. How could they care?
This cycle of death would continue as they looked on. Even if they tried to end it, it would be too little too late. It already was – metal detectors and stricter ID enforcement months after the fact couldn’t bring Josh back. They couldn’t bring anyone back.
She was home. She sighed as she dug out her keys. As she reached the front steps of her house, she glanced up to the sky and sent up a silent, desperate prayer to whatever may have been up there, watching her. God. An angel. Anyone or anything at all.
In these trying times, she figured, there wasn’t much hope of receiving an answer. She was probably only speaking to the clouds.
But before she turned away, she spotted a sliver of white light peeking through the gloom as the sun tried to break through. It seemed to question her – “Are you sure?”
Was there hope? She was so tired of this. Deep down, she wished she could feel something again. Something other than the numbness suppressing her stale grief.
She shook her head and continued forward. Unlocked the front door. Maybe there was. Maybe things would change. Maybe someday no one else would have to face Amara’s could-haves.
But she knew it was only a matter of time before another kid, another parent, another sibling, did again.
About Lyra Pinner
Lyra Pinner is a junior at Richland Northeast High School in Columbia, where Mrs. Margot Jeffers is her English teacher. She is a member of the RNE Book Club, a writer for the Archive, its yearbook, and staff editor for its online magazine, the Saber. She also participated in various volunteer opportunities with the school’s Horizon magnet program. The daughter of Helene and Thomas Pinner, Lyra plans to major in English and minor in history in college.