I am in a family of five: my mother, father, older sister, younger brother, and myself. We started off the day as if it was a normal day, as every day tends to be, except for it being Valentine’s Day.

I came back from my classes to a text from my sister in our family’s group chat saying how she always worries about our parents whenever she hears about a new school shooting. I didn’t understand what she was referring to, so I went to the internet to seek explanation and found that seventeen people were dead after a school shooting in Parkland, Florida.

After the Douglas school shooting, we were shocked. As a citizen of the United States, we have heard about these school shootings before, but this one was too close to home. It was in Parkland, Florida. Parkland is about six and a half hours from my hometown, Tallahassee, and about three hours from where I currently live, Orlando. As I sat in my dorm room, I started watching the videos of survivors recapping on the day and how their friends didn’t make it out of the school. My family talked about how it was too horrible to understand and I just thought about how easy it could’ve been to have been my mother. Or my father. Or my older sister. Or my younger brother.

My mother is a teacher at an elementary school. There have been eight incidents of firearms in elementary schools in the US in the past eight years.

My dad teaches creative writing and graphic novels at FSU. There have been forty incidents of guns at colleges in the US in the past five years.

My sister is a sophomore at FSU. There have been nine shootings in Florida in the past four years.

My brother just started his freshman year in high school. There have been six incidents of guns going off at high schools in the US in 2018.

Seventeen people were killed. Seventeen people who still had a life ahead of them and people who loved them. This is getting even closer to home. How much closer will it get before we realize it’s too late and start making change?

I shouldn’t have to worry about potentially losing every member of my family just for going to school. My parents are doing their jobs and my siblings and I are trying to get an education.

We should be mourning the loss of the seventeen people who will never get to walk into school again or go home and see their families. Instead, we are doing what I am doing, planning for the next as if we can’t stop this from happening.

You can’t tell me that this isn’t an issue in America. You can’t tell me that this doesn’t affect you. You can’t tell me that this is just something that is normal. We need something to be done. I’m begging for something to be done, not just for my family, but for all futures of our students and teachers. As a student, sister, and daughter I am no longer waiting for change, but explicitly demanding it.