by Jaylee Carter
As they do every summer, siblings play in the yards of their home while their parents sit on the porch. The wind is still, dogs are barking, and birds are chirping among the branches of the trees. Childhood never prepares you to be afraid of the sounds of your own neighborhood.
What once was stillness in the air, has now turned into small sounds of wind passing by me.
My naive childish urge to go back to what once was laughter is eating me alive, yet a strong force pulls my body away. The protection of a parent, something full of adrenaline and fear that makes their body act for itself. In what seems like a second, my father drags me to the ground, shielding me from the eerie sound. My heart falls to the pit of my stomach when I realize what has fractured the stillness of the air. Bullets flying, incautiously and unaware that they ruined a normal summer day, even though they didn't pull the trigger of what released them into the world. Childhood never prepares you to be in the crossfire of conflict between others.
Now we’re used to the sound that fractures the stillness in the air. It is an occurrence that has become normal to my neighborhood. What once was the innocent sound of Fourth of July fireworks now makes me run back inside instinctively to protect myself. My younger sister, who was once naive to the sound, now has to be taught to never play outside too far from shelter; all because of the darkness that overcomes others. We have learned that the cause of the frantic bullets was warfare between groups of people who are rivals.
Sometimes I ask myself: Is something else going to happen? Shouldn’t I feel safe in the place I call home?
As they do every day at lunch, students are conversing among one another. The courtyard is filled with the voices of people I grew up with, all laughing together or anxious about their test next block. You never expect your school’s regularly practiced lock down drill to be in use during lunch.
Voices were paused in an instant. The world seemed as if it had stopped, and time froze. We all looked at each other, listening to what sounded like a jackhammer beating into the ground, filling every inch of the atmosphere. In thirteen seconds, our courtyard was emptied. The people I knew as classmates were running frantically inside the buildings, oblivious to what direction the sound was coming from. I was suddenly brought back to that one summer day in my yard, fearing that a bullet was going to collide with my rushing body. As I’m brought back into reality from my memories, I could only hear the ringing in my ears. Then, silence. What I once felt in my neighborhood is now being felt by my peers and me in our school. You’re never prepared to fear for your life in a place where you learn.
I find myself asking questions again: Was the shooter in our school? Am I ever going to have a place in my hometown where I can feel safe? Am I ever going to get away from the violence of others?
This second burst of violence was caused by the same reason as the first: rivals. Although this is what we want to say, the rivals are known as gangs in our hometown. Why is there hatred among others who live in different places in our southern state? Even though we live in different areas, we all live in South Carolina. We’re all known as South Carolinians, living in the Palmetto State of hospitality. Aren’t we supposed to take pride in where we live? Are we ever going to live in peace?
So, when I answer the question, How should we improve the state of South Carolina, I think of the feeling I get when I hear fireworks. I think of the people I grew up with turning against one another for their own pride. I think of all the young lives that were taken because they got themselves caught up in war among others, no matter if it was their family or someone else’s. I think of how I could have lost my own life to a bullet that was meant for someone else.
We should improve the state of South Carolina by learning to live among one another. We should learn to put our hate aside and live in a state of peace, rather than a state of violence. Our government and law enforcement should worry more about improving the state’s gang task forces to diminish gang violence. We, South Carolinians, should put our pride aside to make South Carolina a better place.
About Jaylee Carter
Jaylee Carter is a junior at Mayo High School for Math, Science, and Technology in Darlington, where Dr. Kimberly Turner is her English teacher. The daughter of Leslie and Jordy Carter of Florence, Jaylee credits her parents with inspiring her to push through her obstacles and strive for excellence. She will continue writing her senior year while earning a CNA certification to become a travel nurse.