the shootings
i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again; i am an introvert. hugs do not appease me. kind words do not heal me. they are appreciated, really, but they are not a solution for me. i take them anyway, because i know they help others cope. if i can do something to ease someone’s mind, then i will. but as for me, i need time. time like what i’m experiencing now- sitting on the front porch in good weather with no one around me. no distractions. time to think. and it really does help, because i get a chance to pick apart what it is exactly that i’m feeling and how i’m coping with “it.” it being the death of more than 30 of my peers.
when my roommate first yelled through the apartment to me, “20 dead!” i told her to calm down, and that maybe they had made a typo. on cnn. i mean, the number had been 17 injured just a minute before that; how could it suddenly be 20 dead? the tv was blaring and i didn’t have mindspace enough to think; i shut my door and called my sister. that was my first, and worst, of several breakdowns. i did not have time to process the ramifications of what was happening on campus for the next few hours; i was busy answering and making phone calls/emails/IMs to make sure everyone was ok, and that i was alive. after a few hours, my roommate realized that she and her friends had no idea where Lilly (Elilta) was. they wanted to take my car to drive around and find her. i knew that my roommate and her friends were in no mental state to be driving, and i had nothing better to do but sit and worry, so i offered to chauffer for a while. we went to both police departments- blacksburg and campus. we ended up at the Inn, where everyone ended up, who was looking for someone who was missing. when we first arrived it was very crowded; the hall was full of nervous faces and quiet tears. every so often, a group would leave in much louder tears- they had heard the fate of their loved one. i saw Reema’s mother and friends there. ananya, hanna, and neima (my roommate) were still waiting. ananya and hanna were in an awful state; i waited with them until nearly maghrib time. while i was waiting, abdul shakur came in and told me they (the msa guys) were looking for Waleed. i asked him the most obvious questions- apartment? class schedule? roommates? and all those options were of course, already explored. i stepped further out into the hallway and found a large group of the msa guys, thinking, talking loud, being very Egyptian, trying to find Waleed. it was mostly arabic, and certainly no sisters around; i felt intrusive, so i left. i told them and my roommate that i was leaving and to call me if they needed anything- my apartment only 5 minutes away.
msa had sent out an email requesting everyone to come to the masjid for isha; we wanted to see everyone, make sure they were ok, ask if they knew anyone who wasnt. it was good to see people. a small group ended up staying later, just chatting it up, while the guys again headed to the Inn, to wait. i stood chatting for a while, but i couldnt stay; i wanted to wait too. so i went; the Inn was much quieter after 10pm. the reporters holed up in their vans. satellites quiet. only an interview with spotlights going on here and there. viewers go to bed around that time; news shows usually end at 10. i parked between two big channel vans- i dont remember which; it seemed like a pretty safe option. if someone tried to do something to my car, it would probably all be filmed- it was an amusing thought.
it was easy to get pass the female officer in the hallway- i was wearing a scarf, and was obviously part of the very muslim-looking group, and i was looking for Waleed. looking for meant waiting. when you are trying to find someone who is missing, there is nowhere for you to look. you can only hope to be told. at some point past 11, parts of our group started leaving. after a while, i was the only girl, again. im stubborn- they would have to endure me, and speak in english. i stayed. i was encouraged several times; “yasmin, go home.” go home and do what? wait? sleep was not an option. my roommates were at that point at the roanoke hospital; they found Elilta. she was alive, with a gunshot to the wrist, and through her chin going upwards and barely missing her brain. she was alive. waleed was still a question mark. i might as well have waited at the Inn. so i did. there was another group, a large group; Indian. they were waiting for news as well. she was an international student as well. Minal. it was taking the longest to release information about the international students because, well, they were international students. embassies, governments, and red tape. an understanding woman came in at 2:30am and told us to go home; the medical examiner would begin again at 7:30am. they didnt want to make mistakes on account of being tired. so we did. and i did sleep; i was too weak-willed to actually get up at 7:30 and go back to the Inn. so, on my own, i waited. president Bush was coming to town. convocation at 2pm. the coliseum filled up at noon. my group kept calling me, telling me to hurry; they’d save me a spot in line. i think i snapped at them over the phone- it wasn’t important to me. i came early enough; i came an hour early. i took a crowded bus to get to campus and we all ended up sitting on the football field in our gigantic (holds 60,000) stadium; they had shut the door right before my group got in. i was a little ticked- couldnt the president just give a talk in our stadium? it would have fit everyone. i was still waiting. my group got the call at 1:31pm. we cried. and i realized it was tuesday. it took more than a day; i was still mad.
and ive been more or less the same since that time. i think the anger has worn off, but im finding myself with a short temper still. a little more sarcastic than usual. i got an extreme case of vertigo yesterday while driving; that’s never happened to me. i had to pull over and wait it out. i got a nosebleed- which i havent in a long time. and im tired.  im a little tired of having to counsel people who want to express to me how worried they were about me. i cant help it. ive got a mild case of sympathy-overdose, and really, id like to get back to normal now. i know it wont be exactly the same, but i want to try. i’ll “cry it out” on my own time.
i hope the people i love will be a little less petty from now on, though. i dont know if ill live to see that day, but it would make me so happy. there are far more important things in life. You know?
April 27th, 2007 at 8:37 pm
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