My college experience so far has been defined as fun, enjoyable and innocent. The past few years, I lived in this so-called bubble where nothing really went wrong. There was no violence, no hatred, and it seemed like paradise. Going to parties, hanging out with friends, attending classes in order to further my passion of becoming a writer for National Geographic. My world was perfect.

I still remember the day very clearly. All groggy with a horrible case of bed-head, I woke up in the wee hours of the morning, as I had work on a Friday, as well as a morning class. This was my ecology class, and I was stoked to go, as we were learning about symbiotic relationships in nature. My inner nerd was geeking out hardcore. Anyways, as soon as I commenced the morning ritual to skim through Facebook and check my Instagram so I could stalk Chris Pratt and Beyonce, who are my two favorite celebrities, I saw texts from both my parents and notifications from friends through Facebook.

In short, a "shooting" had occurred at Northern Arizona University. My heart sank, my mind became flustered. Worst of all, I had realized that my campus could become a part of the national problem of mass shootings.

After a glass of water and getting out of bed to start my beloved Keurig coffee machine, I quickly called both my parents and replied to all the messages that flooded my phone. I let my mother and father that I was safe in bed, and was not aware that something so vile had occurred on my beloved campus.

This mountain community nestled almost 7,000 feet above sea level, was now a part of ever-growing statistic of potential mass shootings that were running rampant in the United States.

Aurora, Sandy Hook, Columbine, Tucson, Virginia Tech: all synonymous with the phrase, "mass shooting." Was my school next? Would Flagstaff be on the Dateline News segment and presented by Lester Holt? My only confirmation was that it happened, and everyone and their grandma would be talking about it.

I truly wanted to stay home, I felt unsafe and nervous after hearing that a student lost their life on campus, due to a silly, and unfortunate mistake. I felt like ditching class and being straight-up honest with my manager about not showing up today for work.

However, I mustered the strength to shower and dress up for the day, attend class and go to work. However, the most surprising revelation was at work. After I clocked in, neatly organized my askew name tag, the entire break room was filled with food and goodies.

The store manager mentioned how the food was to comfort and console anyone affected by the altercation that took place at NAU, and how the campus and all of its inhabitants should stand together as a community in times of grief.

The pizza and brownies made my anxiousness turn into comfort, and the fact that I should stand tall for NAU means that I wanted to be brave and strong in times of grief and sadness.

Within the coming weeks, more information was being released about the altercation that occurred that October.

It almost sounded similar to a "he-said-she-said" kind of story, hearing multiple versions of the incident. But all I knew that was true was the name Steven Jones.

I remember one Thursday night, I called my parents like I normally do on a weekly basis, and straight up told them, "I hate him."

I hated Steven Jones in the beginning. He made my second home feel like a war zone. Less dramatically speaking, he made my school feel unsafe. Why he even had a gun in the first place was shocking enough, but to whip it out against other students, against members of your own generation, against kin and country. That disgusted me.

Weeks turned into months, and by the turn of the new year, I read many articles on AZ Central, the amount of coverage and updates about Steven Jones was endless. Then one thing caught my attention on my Facebook feed.

Along with many posts relating to Colin and showing love and support for his family, I saw an alarming amount of trash-talking and disgust for the perpetrator, Steven Jones.

Countless people whom I know on Facebook, and other posts relating to him, people calling him names, saying "he can go to hell, that scumbag," it truly did put things into perspective for me.

I just thought of the amount of hatred that stemmed from that event, just the amount of resentment people have for this individual.

Honestly, I began to feel sorry for Steven Jones.

As a journalism major, I knew I had to fact check all the sources and make sure that I was not reading anything out of line or off-color. Sadly enough, the media does tend to bend the situation and have it become a malleable piece of publicity.

One of the pieces that I read, along with the huge coverage for Steven Jones, was an opinion editorial piece published on the AZ Central website. Titled "NAU shooter gets to 'hug' mom,' families of dead, wounded get... nothing."

To me, that seemed a little fishy. The article that was presented, including a title as such, was made a little biased, and not written very well. Totally understandable that it was an op-ed piece, but I felt like little to none investigating was done here. The article felt like the information was extrapolated from the media, and just put into words with little thought. Short sentences, and saying that the family is not getting respect nor attention that they deserve is quite heartless to say. The article was implying that the family is receiving no help or support whatsoever.

Here's where the line is drawn, between Colin's family and Steven Jones.

For the family of Colin, I have sympathy, and my condolences are with you. Trust me, I know what it is like to lose a loved one. The hole in your heart that cannot be filled due to the pain of losing someone, it's tragic.

But the great thing about life is that we have others to help fill the void. Love, support and kindness are what helps us. The loved ones in my life that have passed away, yes, of course I still think about them almost on a daily basis, but I have learned to accept that their presence is gone, but not forgotten.

I still wish that both my grandmothers were here to see me finish college, marry my dream wife and see me have a successful job. Unfortunately, that won't happen, but I know deep in my heart that both of them are with God, and are at peace.

Becoming more involved with my faith, it taught me as a human being and a Catholic, that prayer is a powerful thing, and that forgiveness is a huge aspect to achieve. After much needed prayer time at the Newman Center and at home, I came to forgive Steven Jones. It was an accident, and not something out of malicious intent. Wording it as an accident might be a little far-fetched, but portraying Jones as a monster and saying the victims families get nothing in terms of support, that is what hatred looks like.

Jones is a human, not a monster. What happened is indeed tragic, but forgiveness is the first step to acceptance and peace. I know that Colin is well and happy, and God is with him.

Pray for both sides of this situation. Because the lives of two young men were changed that night, for Colin and Steven.