It was a normal day for me until I was called to the principal’s office during class. I was a good student, I rarely got in trouble. I obeyed the voice over the intercom. I found Dad in the office waiting for me.

“Sammy, we are going home, your brother needs us," he hurried me out the door to the car.

“Dad, why? What happened?”

“His school was a victim of a small shooting. Only four people were injured and no one died." This much shocked me. I was so scared for my brother.

“Oh no! Is he okay?” I asked frantically. I was getting so anxious. I  jumped out of the car almost before it stopped moving. I went to the TV room where I heard a movie playing. I went to the couch and sat next to Jack. He looked at me, just looked at me. I looked back at him and he hugged me so tightly! I hugged him back. I was so glad he was safe! I had been so worried about him! I was scared for myself too, what if this happened to me? Could I be as lucky as him? I rested my head on his and tried to stop crying.

The rest of the day flew by. At 10:00 p.m. we had to go up to sleep, but I had to talk to Jack. I went to his room, which I never do because of the mess, and I sat on his unmade bed. I was so scared for him. My eyes started to water and he turned to look at me. I reached out to him and he ran into my arms.

“Sammy, I am so scared! I don’t want to sleep, I don’t want to be alone. Sammy, stay with me!” He was begging me. He was crying so hard and he was so frightened.

“Jack, you can sleep in my room.”

“Can I sleep in your bed with you?”

“Yes, Jack." I was relieved he asked actually. I think I needed to know he was there. I was almost as scared as he was. I may have even been as scared as him, I just had no graphic memories playing over and over in my mind.

Sometimes I hate being the older sibling. I think I would rather look up to someone than be the person they look up to.

As I swept up the magazines on my bed and floor, Jack got settled on one side of my bed. He knew I never slept on that side because he used to come and jump on my bed in the morning. He was so little then. I wish he was still little. I wish I was little! Then this never would have happened! I was so scared. This one shooter was messing with my life, and with my mind. I was almost scared to go upstairs without someone else. It’s not like a nightmare, that I can convince myself never happened. This did happen, and it could happen again! Every shadow, every creak, every breath or footstep was, in my mind, a shooter. I was, of course, scared for Jack, but I was also scared for myself! I’m not even sure I believed I would be shot, but I believed I would be afraid. I would be haunted.

That was all racing in my mind when I looked at Jack. He was crying. He was staring at me, and I suddenly realized why. I hadn’t noticed the tears streaming down my face. I opened my arms and he snuggled up to me. We sat there. Hugging, silently acknowledging each other's feelings. Scared for ourselves, scared for each other.

Yes, I slept in Sammy’s bed that night. I was too scared to close my eyes alone. Sammy and I knew Mom and Dad would rather we sleep in our own beds, but we couldn’t. I still didn’t understand why Samantha was scared. I hadn’t died, I wasn’t shot, I was the one who had seen the actual shooter! How was she affected? I was the one haunted with the image of a man with a gun. The sound of the other kids screaming still rang in my ears. It hurt me so much to not know if anyone was hurt, but it would hurt me more if I did. Bailey is my best friend. He was not in my classroom! I didn’t know if he was alright.

A little while before midnight that night, I was thirsty and got up to get a drink. I heard Mom and Dad talking quietly downstairs.

“Joseph, they are so scared! They have to see someone. They can’t just talk to each other!”

“Lindsey, this may resolve itself over time. We must let them work together. It will be more comfortable for them. I think Samantha can handle this,” Dad answered.

“She is only fourteen, and she was affected by this too! I can’t believe you would put that on our daughter like that! If anything, we are the ones who have to handle this. ”

“She is used to being the older sister. Things like this happen in life, they must be prepared.”

“Joseph, they are nine and fourteen! They can’t resolve this on their own!”

“At least let them try, Lindsey.” Mom was mad, but she didn’t want to yell while we were suppose to be asleep. “I think they can do this.”

“Joseph, you can’t do this to our children. We have to be there for them and help them. We can’t leave them alone in a time like this. Apparently, that is what you want to do!”

I think that’s when Sammy realized I was gone. She got out of her bed and came to look for me. I could hear her footsteps on the wood floor and turned around. At the time, I didn’t know it was her, but as I turned I saw her and she saw me. I don’t know how we startled each other, but we both screamed. It was dark, all I saw was the figure of a person. I screamed and started to run. I ran crying to our mom. Sammy followed and I think she was crying as well. Dad almost had to pry us off of Mommy, but I let go.

Mom threw a knowing glance and a smirk at Dad.

“I see now,” he answered. After that, they stopped talking. We stood in the dark hugging and crying. “Why don’t you two go back to bed.”

Obediently, Sammy and I trailed up the stairs back to her room. We got there and she closed the door. I sat on her bed, very tired.

“Sammy, you scared me!”

“I know, you scared me too. I didn’t see you until you turned around.”

“I heard Mom and Dad saying they wanted us to see someone. What did they mean?”

We both crawled under Sammy’s pink flowery quilts, that I would be just fine not having to go near for my whole life, and drifted off to sleep with no answer to that question. Of course, we would find out the next morning.

Jack and I both overslept the next morning. Luckily, Mom and Dad didn’t make us go to school the next day. Jack’s school would be closed for a while because the school and staff needed time to recuperate and talk about ways to prevent this from happening again. Well, I think that’s what they were doing. I do think Mom or Dad came and turned off my alarm clock because it didn’t go off. I woke up before Jack did, but I didn't get out of bed in case it would wake him up. I was also worried he would be scared if I wasn’t there when he woke up. I didn't have to wait long though. Jack woke up slightly confused. I think he forgot we he was in my room. Unfortunately, he quickly remembered why. Jack and I got dressed and went downstairs. Mom and Dad were talking seriously about something. It didn’t worry me that much because it certainly wasn’t out of the ordinary.

Jack and I sat down next to them at the kitchen island. We leaned on the marble and waited for them to finish talking. I rested my head on my fist and my elbow on the table and looked at Jack. The way we looked at each other signified that we were both listening to our parents’ conversation. I’m not sure if Mom and Dad knew, but that would be my guess.

“Sammy, Jack, your Dad and I think you should see a therapist. You are both frightened and I think you need to talk to someone.” Mom said gently, almost condescendingly.

“The therapist can give you ways to control that fear. They can help you get over it.” Dad agreed. Jack looked at me, and I looked back at him confused. Well, I was more than confused. I felt scared, worried, and childish. I had always been the responsible one on Jack’s behalf. I felt now like I had been demoted from older sister. I couldn’t be strong. I was being treated the same way as a nine year old. My nine year old younger brother. I would have felt more embarrassed if I didn’t completely understand where Mom and Dad were coming from. They were right.

“Mommy, who is going to be our theri...thera...talk-to-person?” Jack didn’t understand how to pronounce therapist, but that’s understandable.

“Well,” said Dad, “we looked for a few places and there is a children's therapist about thirty minutes away from here. Her name is Miss Amy.”

“I think you’ll like her.” Mom left to get the phone. I never found out, but I’m assuming she went to call Miss Amy.

Jack and I went back upstairs to the family room. It is like our downstairs living room, only smaller. It is a small room with comfortable couches. It is brown, like most of the rest of the house. Jack and I were only there for the board games we kept in a big pile in the corner. He pulled out a few and before you could say “Just one, Jack!”, there was a huge mess on the floor. Believe me, I tried. Fortunately for us, none of the boxes opened when the toppled to the ground. Jack held the board games over his head like he was in the middle of a river, and the games just couldn’t get wet.

“Really, Jack?” I admit, I have done that many times. Every time we move the couches and chairs we find Lego bricks, dice, and game money standing out against the dark carpet. As Jack and I cleaned up the boxes we settled on three games and spent the rest of the morning playing them.

At noon, Dad pulled our bikes out of the garage and he rode around our neighborhood with us. Jack brought a basketball, he loves basketball. I rode around the court and the adjacent soccer field while they played. The wind blew in my face. I lifted my chin and closed my eyes, letting nature captivate in its wonder. I pulled the ribbons on my bike handles to untangle them. They flew out like my hair. By the end the grass was littered with pink and purple streaks. My bike is white with pink and purple floral silhouettes. I got it last year for my birthday. Jack’s bike is blue and green with the faces of super heroes on it.

When Jack and Daddy were finally done, we rode to a small pizza parlor and got lunch. The rest of the day consisted of games, movies and snacks. Jack and I almost forgot about the important meeting the next day.

The day after the school shooting was a great day. We played indoors and out. I love the outdoors. Nature and basketball are my two favorite things. I had never been to a therapist before, but I was already pretty sure I would not like it!

“Come on, kids!”

“Hurry up or we’ll be late!”

Sammy and I glanced at each other. I slept in her room again that night. We got up and got ready together. I know we were both nervous. We took the car to Dalton’s Child Therapy. It was about a half an hour drive. We pulled up to the small brick building. It actually wasn’t that small, but it was smaller than my school.

The outside of the building seemed unwelcoming, but the inside was very cozy. We only waited about ten minutes before we were brought into the room. It had a pretty pastel blue carpet and light brown walls. I think they could be considered more white than brown.

“Hi,” said the women that brought us in, “I’m Amy Cane, I am going to be with you for about an hour today. Before I ask you my questions, can you tell me what happened again?”

“Yes, I’m Lindsey Johnson and this is my husband Joseph. Jack’s school is where the most recent school shooting happened. It’s scared them more than a little.”

“Thank you. This is Samantha, right?”

“I’m Sammy. That’s what everyone calls me.”

“Alright. Come and sit down. Mom, Dad, can I talk to you?” She showed us where the games and toys were. It was really a nice room. There were couches and a fireplace. There were a lot of games and toys. The therapist was nice too. She had short brown hair and a gentle personality. Her voice was also very gentle, but I guess it had to be when she was talking to Mom and Dad. I don’t think she wanted us to hear them. After they stopped talking, she walked our parents to the door and they left. Sammy and I got up and sat on the couch across from the chair she sat down on.

“Hi! I’m Miss Amy. I hear you guys have had a rough week so far.” She didn’t seem happy or sad, but there was emotion in her voice. I think that is a talent that all therapists have to have. They have to have a happy tone to cheer up their patients, but they have to seem like they understand what their patient is going through. They also can’t sound like a robot with no feelings. It’s definitely a gift. “Jack, in your mind, what happened? What were you thinking?”

I liked Miss Amy from the moment I saw her. She looked nice and quite fashionable. The room was nice, and obviously Mom and Dad approved. However, when she asked Jack that question, I was overcome with all emotions. First off, I was confused. I thought she was supposed to help us get over the memories of that terrible day. All she was doing right now was bringing them back. I was also nervous. I had never seen or spoken to a therapist before.

“Um…” Jack was stuttering. I don’t think he was fully sure how to answer Miss Amy.

“I see what’s happening. Don’t worry. I understand I speak formally, but I am always surrounded by children. You don’t need to be formal around me. You may speak to me as you speak to one another. I hope I do not come across as intimidating.” I still wasn’t sure what to think.

“Uh, okay. I was scared, and I,” he didn’t know how to say it.

“Jack,” Miss Ammy said when he paused, “if you could have asked one and only one question while the shooter was in the room, what would you have asked?”

“I would have asked if anyone was going to be shot. And if anyone had been shot. The shooter had gone into the classroom close to ours, my class heard them screaming. That's when we were sure it wasn't a drill. It was so scary.”

“Okay, and Samantha, sorry, Sammy, when did you find out what had happened?”

“Dad came to my school. He took me home and told me what happened while we were in the car.”

“Right, now what were you thinking when you found out?”

“I was so scared. He was in a hurry to leave and wouldn’t tell me the details yet. He told me that four people were hurt, but he didn’t tell me if Jack was one of them. Jack and I both go to public school somewhat close to each other. If this happened at his school, it could happen at mine.”

“It makes sense you would think that. Jack, after the shooter left, what thoughts were going through your head?”

At this point, it just seemed like an interrogation to me. Jack still answered his question.

“I was sort of wondering if the shooter was out there waiting for us to walk out of the school building. I almost felt like Mom didn’t understand what I was going through when she came to get me. She wasn’t there, how would she know. I didn’t like that feeling.”

“Yes, many people feel like that sometimes. All these emotions are okay to feel, but don’t let them stop you from doing other things. Do you like to ride your bikes?”

“Yes!” Jack and I answered simultaneously.

“If you fell off your bike once, would that stop you from getting back on.”

Taking that upon myself to answer I said, “I would take time to get comfortable again, but I would still ride.”

“Exactly. Take time to get comfortable and relax. You should come see me weekly so we can talk, but at home talk to each other.”

The rest of the time flew by. She taught us ways to breathe and relax. She taught us how to imagine the shooter in silly ways. Jack told me he imagined him like a ballerina. There might be a different point to this exercise, but it certainly helped Jack. He later told me that every time he thought of the shooter he thought of him dressed in a pink tutu.

Mom and Dad said they talked to Miss Amy and decided to let us go back to school in a few weeks. It was Wednesday, November 14, so we would probably go back in the very beginning of December. We were going to take Miss Amy’s suggestion and see her once weekly.

It was scary when I had the sudden realization that this was my childhood. I could never go back. Was I going to spend it like I could also never go forward?

When we got home, Mom and Dad surprised us by calling Bailey, my best friend, and Tess, Sammy’s best friend, over to our house to play. Bailey looks like me, except he has darker blond hair and it’s longer. He has freckles, but he is my height. Tess has straight brown hair and brown eyes unlike Sam’s wavy blonde hair and blue eyes. Tess and Bailey did know each other because this was not the first time we have had double playdates.

After eating ice cream, the four of us came up with a plan. Sam and I stripped our beds and dragged the blankets and sheets to the living room. Tess and Bailey took chairs from the kitchen island and we made a fort. The small opening pointed towards the television and we watched all the Marvel movies on the DVR. We screamed and laughed for four hours straight as we played video games. Somehow we convinced our parents to talk to Tess and Bailey’s parents. All our parents agreed to let them sleep over. It may have been the best night of my life. It was definitely the best night since the shooting.

We stayed up until ten o’clock at night. We played more games, destroyed our fort, made a new fort in Sammy’s bedroom, we even raced Squirtle, Shelley, and Spock. Squirtle, Shelley, and Spock are our baby turtles. Sam and I broke into our Halloween candy and divided it into four groups. We bet candy on the turtle we thought would win. In the end, Tess had the most candy, but she shared it. It was more than half gone by midnight.

The rest of the week felt like it didn’t happen at all. Soon it was the next Wednesday and time to go back to Miss Amy.

“Welcome back guys! Jack and Sammy, you can come on in. I hear you had a day with your friends, huh?” She brought us to her office. There was a fire in the fireplace because it had gotten colder.

“Yeah.” Sammy answered on behalf of both of us.

“Did it distract you from what happened?”

“It did until they left and we realized why Mom and Dad had them come.”

“Yes, that can be hard. Do you think they did the right thing, though?”

“I suppose.” Sammy was answering all the questions, but I agreed with what she was saying, so I didn’t stop her.

“I want to do something with you. Take any of my toy people, but pick the one that reminds you of the shooter.” Sammy and I picked a burglar in a black and white striped shirt and hat. Miss Amy took it and put it on the ground. “Okay, this is the shooter and the symbol representing the shooting. I want you to take these index cards and write down everything that has happened since the shooting. Then, we are going to play a game. Alright, go!”

Sam and I scrambled to do as she said. We wrote down playdate, bike ride, ice cream etc. Neither of us knew why we were doing this, and by the time we were done Miss Amy placed two long strips of masking tape across the full length of the blue carpet.

“Good! Come stand on a line.” She took our separate piles and stood in. She placed the cards on her palms with the correct deck closer to its writer. “That is the shooting. These are things that push you farther away from the shooting. Shall we begin?”

Once we started the exercise it almost felt like we were in a real board game. It wasn’t the most fun game, but it got its point across. Jack and I didn’t need an explanation to understand what Miss Amy was trying to illustrate. She had us move forward with each card, which was a metaphor for moving forward from the shooting. The rest of the appointment consisted of similar games with metaphorical meanings. I think I speak for both of us when I say we had at least a little fun.

“Do you want to stop somewhere before we go home?” Mom was definitely doing her best to give us those moments to push us further from the shooting. I certainly can’t say it wasn’t working.

“Wait, Mom! Isn’t tomorrow Thanksgiving?” We all suddenly realized he was right.

“Oh my goodness! These last two weeks have been so eventful I totally forgot!” Mom exclaimed this with a tone almost fearful.

“I suppose it is a good thing we don’t have plans!” Dad chuckled and we drove off to the supermarket.

“Since it is just us, you children can pick what you want. We need a turkey, but the rest can be up to you.”

Jack and I glanced at each other with sinister eyes.

“Stuffing!” I loved stuffing the most.

“Deviled eggs!”

“Cranberry sauce!”

“Gravy!” Jack and I ran off in different directions to grab all we could pile in our arms. We may have gone a little overboard with the pumpkin pie. The rest of the day I helped Mom prepare as much food as we could and Jack and Dad recorded as many sports games as they could. They fell asleep on the couch that night. After an afternoon of cooking, Mom and I went up to the master bedroom and went to bed in there. I think we prepared well for completely forgetting about Thanksgiving.

Yeah, that happened. We are the first family I know that forgot about Thanksgiving. It’s okay, we did a good enough job preparing. We watched football games recorded from who knows how long ago. When it was eventually time for the last minute feast, we set out old decorations Dad and Sammy dug up from the attic and ate until we were stuffed. Sammy and I accidently threw three pumpkin pies in the basket, but for four people we did a good enough job on them.

“Well,” said Dad, “it has been a good Thanksgiving.”

“Especially for a family who completely forgot.” Mom giggled and got up to clear the table.

Sammy stopped her, “Wait! We didn’t go around and say what we’re thankful for!”

“Oh, you are very right! Who would like to start?”

“I’ll start, Joseph. I am thankful for a family that can work together to overcome any challenges that come our way.”

This is one of those moments that I, along with probably many kids my age, would make a disgusted sound. I didn’t do it though. It just didn’t seem mushy to me. This last week has really changed the way I think about family. I used to think family is just the people you are closely related to, and they are, but they are more than that. Family is friends, family is support, family is love. There is no way I would be this comfortable after a school shooting if I didn’t have an older sister like Sammy. Our parents helped us both so much and so did Miss Amy. I guess you could say Miss Amy is like family to us.

“Very nice, Lindsey. Along with that I am thankful for those many blessings in disguise that surround us and help us.” Dad leaned his head back and pecked mom as she passed him on the way into the kitchen. That I groaned at.

“What about you, Jack?”

“I am thankful for friends who have our back even when they don’t know it.”

“Wonderful, Jack. Sammy?”

“I am thankful for a brother, a mother, a father, and a therapist to help us through life. The only life we are ever going to have.”

We are thankful for the friendships of friends and family. We are thankful for the good times and the struggles that bind us together. We would be nowhere without each other. It takes love to know who your favorite people are. Maybe a mom, maybe a dad, maybe a sibling or siblings, maybe a therapist, maybe them all. As a very, very wise person named Suzie Huitt once said it “Brother and sister together as friends, ready to face whatever life sends,” We couldn’t have said it better ourselves. It is the love of someone dear that truly heals the heart.