Nonfiction "Scars on My Heart"
Scars on My Heart It was eight pm Tuesday evening, the day of the Florida shooting, the day that high school kids stopped dreaming of prom or first dates. That day they were immersed in a horrible dream that they couldn't wake from! I had heard the news, Hawaii couldn't shield us from the terrible scars of reality, the world into which we had so naively delivered our children. It was that day, that evening, that all the stories brought home of his threats, taunting and assaults became vividly horrible. I had just finished cleaning the kitchen and was heading into the bedroom to take a shower when my cell phone rang. Never hearing from friends at 8:30 at night, I felt cold dread in shivering drips of sweat begin their journey down my back. Hesitating was only prolonging the wicked clock of time that was ticking against my will. “Hello what's up? Is everything ok?” I barely breathe as my friend sounds nervous and a...