Wikipedia Research: The Sinking of the Titanic

         Everyone has heard of the tragic sinking of the famous ship, the RMS Titanic, but no one knows what truly happened that caused such a horrific imprint in history. Ever since that fateful night on April 15, 1912, the RMS Titanic has become one of the most famous tragedies at sea the world has ever known. This is partly due to the effects of Murphy’s Law (which states, everything that can go wrong, will go wrong) and the corrupted structure of the 1900s social classes. But mainly, it’s the shear mystery that keeps this sorrowful moment in time alive. Why wasn’t the iceberg seen sooner? Why were there so few lifeboats? Why did no one come to their aid? For years, these questions and the many more that followed, were unable to have the definitive answers everyone was looking for. That was until scientists traveled to the depths of the Atlantic and saw the wreckage for themselves. I took it upon myself to discover as much as I possibly could about the actual happenings that occurred during the sinking of the Titanic through the wonderful world of Wikipedia.

            While reading through the extensive article about Titanic’s Sinking offered by Wikipedia, a quote referring to the collision between Titanic and the iceberg caught my eye. It read,

“The impact with the iceberg was long thought to have produced a huge opening in Titanic’s hull, ‘not less than 300 feet (91m) in length, 10 feet (3.0m) above the level of the keel’….Modern ultrasound surveys of the wreck have found that the damage consisted of six narrow openings in an area of the hull covering only about 12 to 13 square feet (1.1 to 1.2m^2) in total” (Wikipedia).

Due to my curious nature, I wanted to verify the accuracy of this statement. Thus, I researched the source it originated from, which was an article published by the New York Times in April 1997. The article did indeed confirm the iceberg had left several small openings along the side of the ship instead of one long gash. While reading, I also discovered that what truly doomed the Titanic was the unfortunate placement of the openings combined with the ship’s intense speed which caused water to act like “jets from firemen’s hoses, filling the ships interior with some 39,000 tons of water just before sinking” (The New York Times). I believe having this bit of information would have been a great contribution to Wikipedia’s article, due to its more in-depth analysis of how the ship sank.

            As I continued my reading of Wikipedia’s article, I came across another interesting piece of information that caught my attention. It was in regards to a man named J. Bruce Ismay who was said to be the chairman and managing director of the Titanic who was, a “controversial survivor” due to his, at the time, unethical escape from the ship which later publicly condemned him of cowardice. Unfortunately, the article never went into any detail about why his escape was made out to be so controversial. Thus, I again went to check where the information was sourced from. Which was a book written by Robert D. Ballard called The Discovery of the Titanic. In this book I was able to find out that Ismay escaped on a boat meant only for women and children during the early moments of her sinking. This additional information would have done a great service to the article, for it explained the reasonings behind such a tremendous public outrage against the man who funded the design and build of the Titanic herself.

            As I neared the end of Wikipedia’s article, there was a small section that talked about a third class steward named John Edward Hart. Who, as Wikipedia put it, “organized three trips into the ship’s interior to escort groups of third-class passengers up to the boat deck.” I was able to find the original source this information was taken from, which was in a book called A Night to Remember by the author Walter Lord. While reading through the pages of this book, I learned that the information on the Wikipedia article was incorrect. Although John Edward Hart did escort third-class passengers to the boat decks and was a third class steward, he only made two trips to the boat deck with third-class passengers instead of three, as reported by Wikipedia. Though the information may have been slightly incorrect, it is a prime example of the everyday faults of any Wikipedia article.

            Once I finished reading the article in its entirety, I wanted to get a deeper sense of who the writers of this Wikipedia article were. I decided to do some background research on three different editors. One of them being a person that goes by the name Acroterion who recently made an edit on the Sinking of the Titanic article on January 17, 2016. While researching said person, I discovered that Acroterion has written and edited several articles on Wikipedia, since the year 2006. During that time, they have achieved five Wikipedia achievement stickers including having helped promote two articles and uploading a featured photo. I’ve also learned that Acroteriorn is a native West Virginian who traveled through every country in North America and 20 countries in Europe. Acroterion is also fluent in both English and French and has been an official administrator on the English Wikipedia since November 19, 2007.

            The second editor I decided to research was a man by the name of Oshwah who made a contribution to the Sinking of the Titanic article on December 9, 2015. One of the first things I noticed when researching his official Wikipedia account was the several different stars awarded to him by the site itself. For instance, he was given the Anti-Vandalism star 20 times and the Tireless Contributor star 3 times. He has also been awarded the Bufonite Editor Star which he displays on his page. I have learned that this star is different from the others, in that it is awarded only to those who have been named a Master Editor 3. This title gives him rollback rights, autopatrolled rights, and pending changes reviewer rights on the English Wikipedia. Also on Oshwah’s page, he has informed readers that he has a Bachelor of Science degree in computer software with a minor in applied mathematics. While reading through his bibliography, I was given the impression of him being a humble, creative, and open-minded individual who appreciates the different perceptions of the world through the eyes of influential people. As he lists those such as Albert Einstein, Thomas Carlyle, and John Burroughs in his “Quotes that speak for me” section.

            The third and final editor I researched was a boy named Rumiton who contributed several times on the Sinking of the Titanic article between November 27, 2015 and December 6, 2015. Rumtion is a native Australian fluent in English, German, and French who attends Normanhurst Boys’ High School. Rumtion is an official Wikipedia member of the Guild of Copy Editors and has received a punctuation sticker from the site in addition to the Iron Editor Star he received when he became a Veteran Editor. One of Rumtion’s main interests is in the translation of German to English which leads into his passion for advocating proper cultural translation. He also has a WikiStress Level meter on his page which indicates he has been “Pretty Stressed” as of late.

            After reading the article provided by Wikipedia in its entirety, I reflected on parts that I would have liked to see more of. For example, the inclusion of more eye-witness accounts. While reading through Ballard’s book, I found an interesting bit of information in regards to one of the survivors named Jack Thayer and his descriptions of the Titanic as it went down.

“Her deck was turned slightly towards us. We could see groups of the almost fifteen hundred people aboard. Clinging in clusters or bunches, like swarming bees; only to fall in masses. Gradually she turned her dock away from us, as though to hide from our sight, the awful spectacle…I looked upwards-we were right under the three enormous propellers. For an instance, I thought they were sure to come right down on top of us. Then, with the deadened noise of the bursting of her last few gallant bulkheads, she slid quietly away from us into the sea” (Ballard 29).

After doing much research on the Sinking of the RMS Titanic article given by Wikipedia, I have concluded that although much of the information used was accurate and had creditable sources, the same cannot be said for many of the other five million or so articles on Wikipedia. I strongly believe that the use of Wikipedia as one’s main or only reference source for any topic of research is an unwise and unprofessional decision to make. With this being said, I would not totally eliminate Wikipedia for research purposes completely. Rather, I would urge those interested in gaining information about the use of other possible sources to look at the Resources section of a Wikipedia article as a starting point for their research. Overall, I believe that Wikipedia is not a source that can be totally and completely relied on due to its untrained and unprofessional editors and their use of non-creditable or opinionated/biased articles.

Sources:

            Broad, William J. (8 April 1997). “Toppling Theories, Scientists Find 6 Slits, Not Big Gash, Sank Titanic” The New Times. Book.

            Ballard, Robert D. (1987). The Discovery of the Titanic. New York: Warner Books.

            Lord, Walter (1976). A Night to Remember. London: Penguin Books.

            “The Sinking of the RMS Titanic.” Wikipedia: The Free Encyclopedia. Wikimedia Foundation, Inc. Web. 4 March 2016.

I Love You

         “Arionna Rose Gonsalves, don’t you dare leave this house acting like that, do you hear me?” Of course I heard her, there was no way I couldn’t have heard her.  My mother’s voice echoed off the walls of our small two bed, two bath apartment as if she were yelling into a megaphone.

 “I said, did you hear me?”

Without responding, I grudgingly turned on my heels so that my body faced hers, yet due to my angsty, I’ve-got-life-all-figured-out-so-I-don’t-need-you, attitude I couldn’t bring myself to make eye contact. Instead, I looked directly past her towards the large mirror that covered the length of the living room wall.

In it I saw a girl not much older than thirteen. She was thin and somewhat gangly. Her small fists were clenched so tightly that I could see the whites of her knuckles shining through her caramel skin. Her eyes were red and puffy and tears smeared her small oval face. Those same eyes glared at me with an anger that caused her whole body to tremble. I could see her chest rise and fall in a manner that was less than rhythmic, with a face that bore an expression similar to that of a child being told, “No.”

 “I said, did you hear me?” she reiterated.

I turned my gaze from my twin in the mirror and finally meet eye-to-eye with my mother. The phrase, “If looks could kill”, was more evident in this very moment than it had ever been in my life previously. Those eyes of hers were wild and untamed, they seemed to scream at me, chastising me for my every action. Looking at those predator-like eyes made my insides twist and knot into elaborate shapes and designs of unrelenting fear. My eyes quickly darted to the ground beneath my feet to escape her lethal glare.

“Life is too unpredictable to leave home angry, Arionna. Once you step out that door, you have no say in what may happen to you, no idea whether today may be your last. I won’t always be here, but while I am, I want you to always remember my words and to tell me that you love me.” Gentle hands then cupped my face with a touch so soft and warm, like how I imagined a cloud would be. She tilted my face up towards hers and our eyes met once more. This time they were filled with a compassionate love that ran so deep, it seemed to embrace my entire body from head-to-toe. My eyes tactfully scanned every inch of her face, memorizing every detail, while my mind began replaying old memories of us together, laughing, hugging, talking, and just being at peace in each other’s presence. I could feel a sudden waterfall of warm tears begin to pour from my eyes and down my face.

“I love you”, I said in a hushed voice.

 A smile as warm as the sun stretched out across her face, “I love you too, Ari.”

It has been six years since that day and I am still able to recall the memory of my mother’s heartfelt words as her soft hands held my face. Yet with age, comes the tribulation of life’s great many burdens. For me, life has been all but easy-going these past few months and as the days press onward, I cling to those words as if they were my life raft in the middle of a raging storm. They bring a small sense of hope to my dismal existence, a hope that whispers to me ever so softly, telling me that everything will be alright. Even though the world seems dark and bleak, there is always a light at the end of the tunnel. And that very same light, that hope, would be the thing that gives me strength to deal with the tragedy that is my aunt’s stage four breast cancer.

            As I walk through the crowded, teen-filled halls of my high school, my thoughts begin to race to the day when I was first told of my aunt’s breast cancer and how my face turned a bright red as I struggled to breath in enough oxygen to fill my impatient lungs while they frantically screamed out, “You’ll be fine, you will! Trust me, you have to trust me, okay?” Back then it was easy to believe the lie, to believe that things were just as they’d always been, but now I struggle to even formulate the possibility of an everyday, normal life with her. The very thought of the word “normal” made my entire body shake and my blood boil to the point of near explosion. ‘Why can’t I have any normalcy in my life? Why do I have to go through this? Why is she putting me through this? Why didn’t she get checked when she noticed something was wrong? Why did she wait until it was this bad?’

 These were the questions that burned into my heart, leaving scars as they cooled.

I could feel the tears beginning to correspond with the anger that was building up inside me, threatening to overflow. I never intended to feel this way, never wanted to ever be angry at her for something she had no control over. Yet here I was, standing in the middle of a crowded hall, bursting at the seams with a plethora of emotions all screaming at me, telling me how to feel, how to think, how to be. I felt so overwhelmed, like I was spiraling down into a dark pit with no way out, no sign of life or source of light. I felt alone.

 “Um, excuse me.” An unfamiliar voice called out to me, rescuing me from the darkness that I was encased in.

“I need to get to class and you’re in my way.” The particularly annoyed voice belonged to a small brown-haired, doe-eyed girl.

 “Sorry” I said, though my voice reflected none of the intended sorrow.

As I let the small brown-haired girl pass me to live her seemingly “normal” life, I too resumed my hectic, tornadic-like existence, wishing for some sense of serenity. Later that same week, I had received a phone call from my mother explaining how she was going to visit my aunt in Virginia and how she thought it would be great for both her and I if I came along.

 “She’ll be so happy to see you, won’t you come visit?” My mother asked with the upmost sincerity.

The question sent waves of paralyzing chills down my spine and left me baffled in a fog of fear and concern. ‘Can I do it?’ I thought to myself. ‘Can I really watch her pained and bedridden as if nothing were wrong?

 “Yeah, I’ll come” I said hiding my reluctance behind a smile.

 I loved my aunt, but the pain of seeing her in her current state hurt worse than any wound. Yet despite the fear and the pain that raged on inside me, I felt compelled to go, as if there was some higher force watching out for me, instructing me to. As if it knew something I didn’t.

 “That’s great, I’ll call her tonight and tell her the good news. We’ll probably leave towards the end of the month, okay?”

 “Okay mom, sounds like a plan.” I replied hastily.

 Once I hung up the phone, I began mentally preparing myself for the emotional journey that loomed in front of me like a dark and ominous cloud threatening to bring the king of all storms.

            During the month of September, my mother and I drove the three hours to reach the Richmond Cancer Center where my aunt was hospitalized. The ride down was a pleasant one. The warm and gentle winds seemed to coddle me as it blew in through the open windows, singing to me softly as it breezed by my ears. The sun’s rays peered through the cluster of clouds crowding the sky in various different locations creating a sort of spotlight effect on everything it touched. I looked out through the window towards the miles of vibrant, green rolling hills before us and I let my mind wonder and escape into a world of its own.

I pretended that our 2008 Ford Escape was no longer a simple land bound vehicle, but instead a vast and mighty ship and the rolling hills beside me turned into great evergreen waters with no end in sight. In my mind, we sailed through these infinite seas just listening to the sounds of birds and waves that my mind conjured up, giving a more realistic touch to my imaginary world.  In this moment, life was simple, it was easy. There was no here nor there, no right or wrong, no happiness or sorrow, just the simplicity of a young girl’s will to imagine a world far away from this one. Where she could captain the grandest ship that ever sailed the seas of her imagination.

Oh how such a simple phrase as, “We’re here”, could break the fortitude of the world I had created. I was instantly thrust back into reality as those words exited my mother’s mouth. Time which had all but stopped, seemed to move at lighting speed as I exited the car towards the structure that housed my aunt. To me, those buildings looked like a monstrous collection of sentinels watching my every move. I could hear their heavy rhythmic breathing as the automatic doors opened and closed with a terrifying whoosh. Those big glass doors were more like two giant teeth welcoming me into the belly of the beast. I watched my mother as she entered its mouth with no hesitation. I knew that I too had to enter this frightening creature in order to reach my beloved aunt. So I did, one foot at a time. I walked through its mouth, feeling its cold, harsh breath on my face as I made my way through to the inside.

As I entered the mouth of the beast, we were greeted by an overly, friendly nurse who spoke in a rather annoyingly, chipper voice. We wordlessly listened to the sound of her near ear-splitting, high-pitched squeaking as she gleefully directed us towards the floor and suite where my aunt stayed. With faces composed of pure agony for the god-awful noise that exited her mouth, we followed her every instruction and made our way to the top floor of the building on the east side, where the cancer patients were housed.

As we neared our destination, I could feel my hands begin to moisten and twitch in the pockets that contained them. Thoughts of my sickly aunt began to run circles through my mind, leaving skid marks on my brain as they sharply turned left then right, up then down, here then there, crashing through all the wild and absurd scenarios my mind had created.

            Finally we had arrived. I stood face-to-face with the once brown, but now ugly shade of beige, door. My hand slowly rose to meet the cool, metallic feel of the handle as I turned it ever so cautiously. Terrified of what awaited me beyond, I carefully peered through the door as it slowly opened, and to my amazement, the room was far from what I imagined it to be. My mind had created an image of a bleak and dismal atmosphere filled with people just waiting for death. Yet, this place was filled with laughter from the young and the old, the sick and the healthy. The walls were painted a pretty pastel pink and purple and stick-on butterflies covered nearly every square inch of visible surface, including desks, chairs, tables, and even the doors to the patient’s rooms. There was a large family area that had an assortment of toys and games laid out neatly on a carpeted, blue floor. While the large flat screen television played re-runs of Spongebob Squarepants for a small group of wide-eyed children seated in front of it. In my complete astonishment, I realize that my facial expression resembled that of one of the shows main characters, Patrick Star. With a mouth hung wide open and eyes as big as saucers, he and I could have practically been twins. I continued to scan the joyous atmosphere until a pleasant voice called out to me from behind a large wooden desk.

“Hi, is there anything I can help you with?”

 “Yes, we are here to see Pamela Colman”, my mother replied smoothly as she wrote our names down on the sign-in sheet.

 “Oh yes of course, she’s been talking about you two for quite some time now. She’s in the third room to your left, just remember to knock first.”

We did as she instructed and followed the hallway to the third door on our left. On it was a name plate that read, “Pamela Colman” on a small white piece of paper, written with what seemed like a blue sharpie.

            “This is it”, I thought to myself. I raised my fist and slowly knocked on the door. The faintest of voices called out to me from behind it, “Come in” it said. I took a deep, steading breath and opened the door.

 “Hello!” called the small voice followed by a thin trail of laughter.

 “Hi, Aunty Pam”, I called back.

Every ounce of fear and doubt I had harbored in my chest and vanished completely the moment I saw her face. It shined with the same old beauty and grace that it always had and yet there was something different, something new about it that I had not seen before. It was as if the sense of maturity and loving kindness were permanently etched into the features of her thinning face.

            “I’ve missed you!” she exclaimed.

            “We’ve missed you to, Aunty Pam.” I replied in a rather joyous voice.

            “Hi, Pam, how are you?” my mother asked as stepped out from behind my shadow.

            “I’ve been good” she replied warmly.

From then on we talked and laughed for days without a care in the world. We talked about our lives and how I was doing in school, my mother with her job, and Aunty Pam with her chemo. For the first time in a long time, I felt normal. Before I knew it, it was nearing the end of our visit, only one day left before we would make the journey back home.

“I’ll be back shortly, I have go run some errands, okay?” my mother said as she waved goodbye to both my aunt and I.

The door closed behind her with an audible thud which also doubled as a cue for my aunt to begin her elaborate series of light-hearted questions

“So you said that your homecoming dance is right around the corner, right? Who are you going with? Is he cute? How tall is he? What is he like? Is he nice?” She asked with a grin so wide it seemed to split her face from ear-to-ear.

“He’s this guy I met not too long ago during class. He’s really nice and sweet and tall and really, really cute.” I replied in a rather giggly voice while attempting to obscure my face behind a curtain of my own thick curly, brown hair in order to hide my ever-growing rosy cheeks.

“Are you two going to wear matching outfits?” She asked with the same intensity.

“No, I’m not sure what he’s wearing, but I’ve got this really flowy, pink dress I picked out and it goes so well with my heels.”

“You, in a pink dress? I have to see it to believe it! Oh, Ari, you have to send me pictures.” She exclaimed as her hands clasped together firmly; fingers intertwined, as if she were in prayer.

“Of course I will” I promised.

 We then both giggled at the thought of me, a rowdy tomboy, in a girly pink dress. As I watched my aunt’s face light up with laughter I thought to myself, “This is normal, this is what it normalcy feels like.” My new-found resolution for the word gave me such a sense of ease and comfort. “Maybe things will be alright in the end, maybe everything can actually return to normal.” The thought made me giggle even more in my already euphoric state. But that contentment that I felt was quickly shattered as her laughs turned into grunts of pain. I froze, staring, horrified at the obvious discomfort she was in.

“What do I do?” I franticly asked her.

She didn’t speak, she only shook her head from side-to-side to indicate that I do nothing. Bewildered, by her action, I stood up determined to find help. Just then help answered through a speaker on the wall.

 “Yes Pam, what is it?” I turned towards my aunt to see that she had pressed the red call button that was attached to her bed.

When my aunt didn’t answer her question, I shouted, “Please help, there’s something wrong.”

“I’ll be right there ma’am.” The voice answered back.

In less than a minute, a small team of three nurses entered the room to assist my aunt. I quickly moved to the far corner of the room to give them space. In horror, I watched as they undid her gown, exposing her bare chest, revealing to me her non-existent left breast which had been completely eaten away by the cancer that resided within her. I couldn’t watch anymore. I quickly fled the room, crashing into the door as I struggled to open it. Tears clouded my vision making it hard to see where I was going, but at the same time I had nowhere to go. I walked through the hallway past the big wooden desk, ignoring the stick-on butterflies and the always cheerful family room. I ran through the ugly beige door, stumbling as I went. After several minutes of meandering through desolate halls, I finally collapsed against one of the walls. And for hours, I cried. I cried until my tears ran dry and then I cried some more.

 “Are okay?” A strange woman’s voice called to me.

 I didn’t look up, I just continued my tearless cries.

 “Is something wrong, can I help?”

I didn’t want her help.

 “Do you need someone to talk to?”

“No, just go away”, I wanted to answer, but I didn’t care enough to speak.

 Eventually the mysterious woman gave up trying to help me and went about her life. I remained balled up against the wall laughing at myself for thinking things could go back to the way they were, back to normal. All the anger and pain that once plagued my heart had returned with forceful vengeance. I was angry at my mother for bringing me here, at my aunt for being sick, and at the world for putting me in this situation. For several hours I debated whether or not to go back into the cancer ward. I knew I couldn’t face seeing my aunt again, but I had nowhere else to go. So after an immeasurable amount of time, I had finally reasoned with myself to go back. I eventually stood up on shaky, unreliable legs and made the trek there.

Once I entered the ward I headed straight for the family room thinking I could at least sleep there for the night. Upon entering the room, I ran straight into my mother.

 “Aunty Pam told me what happened.” She said coolly.

 I didn’t respond.

 “She’s better now, if you want to go see her.”

I remained silent.

 I could feel my mother’s eyes digging deep into my skin, but I didn’t care.

 “Ari.” She said in a quiet, yet stern voice.

“Do you remember what I told you all those years ago about never leaving home angry?”

 Her question jolted something deep inside me, a memory perhaps, I wasn’t quite sure, but I looked up at her and our eyes met.

 “You never know what may happen to you once you step out that door, remember?”

 I nodded slowly.

 “Always tell those who are close to you that you love them, Ari. Always.”  

I looked towards the direction of my aunt’s room then back to my mother, who gestured for me go to her. I forcefully made my feet move in the direction of her room and opened the door.

 “Hi” I said to her in a meek voice.

 “Hi” she responded.  

. For the rest of the night we talked about what happened and how it made us feel. She held me tight and we slept side-by-side. When morning finally approached, we once again exchanged hugs and kisses.

 “I love you” I whispered to her softly as she held me close.

 I could practically hear the smile in her voice when she said, “I love you too.”

           

                       .    .     .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .   .    .    .    .

It has been three years since that day, and my aunt has since passed on. She slipped away in her sleep two weeks after my visit. Although it has been a very tough time for me and my family, I am forever grateful that I listened to the wise words of my mother, and went back to spend those ever-so precious moments with aunt, which I will cherish forever. I will always remember to never leave my house angry or without saying goodbye to the ones I love, and neither should you.

Safety

It was Saturday evening around five, the air was crisp that day, for winter was coming to a close. The world patiently awaited spring’s arrival, but it wouldn’t come for another month and a half. I stood outside in the cold, wearing a jacket that was not quite fit for the harsh winds and thirty degree weather.

“Are you coming?” Dan asked. He was a friend of mine who I met a couple months back when I first transferred to UMBC that spring semester.

“Yeah, sounds fun.” I answered as a visible puff of air corresponded with my words.  Earlier that week, Dan had been begging me to see the new movie, 300: Rise of an Empire, with him and a couple of our friends. Since I honestly had nothing planned for the rest of the day, I thought hanging out with a few friends would be better than sitting in my room staring at the wall all night.

“Great! We’re going to catch the bus around 8:15, see you there.” With that, he turned and waved goodbye as he headed down the hill to where, I presume, his classes were. I, on the other hand, trekked up the hill towards the warmth and coziness of my dorm room to wait out the cold winter hours until 8:15 rolled around.

            Finally it was time to leave the comfort of my dorm and head towards the bus stop. Halfway down the hill, I noticed that I had brought my backpack with all my school supplies in it. I briefly glanced back in the direction of my dorm and considered traveling back up the hill to drop off my bag. I quickly shook the thought out of my head and proceeded to the bus stop. As I neared the meeting place, I noticed that Dan, Cam, Yasmine, Tonya, Jade, and Kim were already there, which meant that I was the last to arrive. We talked about classes and schedules as we patiently waited for the bus. Once it arrived, we jumped on and headed to the Anne Arundel Mills mall and theater.

At the theater we bought tickets and snacks, then took our seats. The room was incredibly crowded since it was the night of the movie premier. We were lucky to get seats near each other. The movie played as any ordinary movie would, with lots of combat and a little romance. Overall, the film was extremely exciting and fun to watch. Only a couple of minutes remained as the two main characters battled each other in a bloody and vicious war.

What proceeded next took only a few seconds, but it felt as though someone had pressed a button that made the entire world slow down. The sound was the first thing I noticed. A bang so loud, so uncalled for and unnerving, I believed it was a sound effect from the movie. The bang was followed by a glimpse of bright yellow light followed by a thin trail of smoke. The light was so close to me that I could see each and every confused, wide-eyed expression on the faces around me. Then silence only for a moment, yet that moment felt like a lifetime. The silence, I’ve never heard anything like it. It was so deafening, I could practically hear the blood pump through my veins. The calm before the storm, it was called. Indeed it was. No one moved an inch. We were all frozen in our seats like statues, petrified with fear, yet our muscles were tense and ready for the storm that would proceed.

Just a mere second had passed, then the chaos ensued. All at once, as if some imaginary siren went off, everyone was up out of their seats, scrambling to get away. Pushing, shoving, falling, crawling, every sort of movement known to mankind, trying to escape. Screams of blind terror filled the room, echoing off the walls. Their cries of prayers and calls for help seemed to go unanswered.

I had forgotten that I was part of the chaos, that what I was experiencing was indeed real. For it felt as if I was watching some overly realistic doomsday thriller. Then, I realized, I must find my friends. In all the chaos we had gotten separated. I looked around the panic-stricken room desperately searching for the six people I came with. The darkness made my searching laborious, I squinted as my eyes tried to adjust to the pitch black surroundings. A second shot went off, followed by an even more intense wave of screams. Luckily, a flash lit the room just long enough for me to spot three of my friends, Tonya, Yasmine, and Kim. Bang!

“Get down!” Yasmine yelled to me. “Get down, you’ll be a target. Crawl! CRAWL!” It was only then did I realize I was standing straight up. I might as well have had a bullseye placed on my forehead that read “Shoot me.” I immediately dropped to the ground like a lead weight. There was so much adrenaline coursing through my body that I had barely noticed I had bashed my knee against one of the chairs as I went down. I noticed my backpack, lying on the ground in front of me. It was stuck, caught between two of the theater chairs. Without thinking, I immediately reached for it, mindlessly tugging on it; trying to free it. I looked back towards the exit, which seemed miles away, then back to my bag. I paused for a second, then let go and headed for the exit. I dragged my body down the stairs ignoring the people in front of me, but occasionally looking behind me to keep track of my friends.

I could see the exit clearly now, I could see the light protruding somewhere beyond the confinements of the room. I began to crawl faster, pushing past strangers who blocked my way to safety. In all the chaos, I heard a wailing that cut so deep through my body that I couldn’t ignore it. I looked to my right and saw a woman, not much older than I was, lying on the floor. Her hands covered her face and chest. A waterfall of tears rolled down her cheeks as she continued her bloodcurdling cries of despair. I looked at her longer than I should have. I felt something grab my shirt and yank me to my feet. Terrified, I jumped forward, freeing myself from the thing that held me. Before I could take another step, I felt the same thing grab my arm and tug me backwards. A familiar voice called to me from behind.

 “We have to go.” I looked back to see Cam. His hand held my arm, yet his eyes were darting around the room searching for what, I wasn’t sure. I took one last glance at the crying woman on the floor, then followed Cam’s lead as he pulled me towards the exit.

We were bathed in bright light as we passed through the doors, held open by what seemed like the manager, ushering people out of the theater. Just a few feet away, I saw Dan, Yasmine, Kim, and Jade. They stood shaken and huddled in a mass against the wall. Still panicked, there was no sense of relief in our reunion. They franticly talked among themselves about what to do. I was too on edge to fully listen to their banter. Then it hit me, someone’s missing. At exactly that same moment, Dan asked, “Where’s Tonya?” Fear and concern slowly began to rise in the faces of my friends as they all went silent. No one spoke, only our thoughts went rampant as images of the worst possible scenarios entered our minds.

 After what seemed like an eternity, Cam finally spoke, “Leave her.” His voice was dry and raw, his eyes showed no sign of emotion or uncertainty, only the need to survive.

 “She’s probably dead, we have to leave her” He said. Stunned with disbelief, I stared around at my circle of friends waiting for someone to object, but no one did.

 “Come on!” he shouted impatiently. He took off at a sprint, followed by the remainder of our group. Terrified of being separated, I too took off sprinting. I ran so fast I felt as if I was flying. I barely noticed my feet touch the ground or my heart pound in my chest. I only felt the wind whip by my body as I literally ran for my life.

As I ran through the mall, I saw strange faces fly past me. If only I could tell them what was happening. Tell them to run, to get to safety, but there was no time for that. I could not stop, I had to run, there was no other choice. I could see the doors that lead to the outside. I pushed open the big glass doors as easily as I could lift a finger. The adrenaline continued to race through my body as I exited the building. The once cold and harsh winter air that stung my face, was no more frigid than a cool autumn breeze as I fled to the parking lot.

I ran through an endless sea of cars that seemed to go on and on with no end in sight. There was no destination, no plan or objective. The only solution was to run until I could not run any more. I was not an athlete. I never ran track, played basketball, swam or danced, the most I would do was go to the gym a couple times a week. As a result, the effects of the sprinting began to take hold. My chest felt heavy and every breath I took felt like burning hot sandpaper as it entered my lungs. The muscles in my legs began to weaken as the pain and achiness started to take over. I knew I wasn’t able to last much longer.

 “Cam!” I cried out as loudly as my lungs would allow.

Thankfully he heard me and stopped to stare in my direction.

“Cam…I can’t…” These were the only words I could form to express my total and complete exhaustion. He looked at the theater, then to me and nodded as he believed we were far enough out of harm’s way for the moment. I leaned up against a nearby truck for support as the group began to formulate a plan. As they conversed over possible options, a faint and ominous noise echoed in the distance followed by a third wave of screams. Nearly a second later a horde of people came franticly running away from the theater where the source of the terrifying noise originated.

“I know a place not too far from here, come on!” Cam announced as the throng of people closed in on us. Again we were off in an adrenaline fueled sprint. There was a road with oncoming cars just in view, yet there was no sign of us slowing down. With only the slightest hesitation, Cam darted across the road to a small clearing on the other side. One-by-one each person crossed the road and made it safely across until Yasmine and I were the only ones left. I could see the reluctant look in her eyes as cars whizzed by. There was a small break in the traffic so I made a split second decision, grabbed her by the arm, and dashed across the road to the others.

Finally we were safe and able to catch our breaths. Our emotions began to take over everyone in the group including myself. Tears and wails of confusion filled the night air as the realization of what just happened sunk in.

“Tonya! What about Tonya? Cam, we have to go get her. We can’t leave her there” Yasmine cried.

“Okay, calm down, try calling her on her phone” he suggested rather calmly. Cam’s idea reminded me that I had put my phone in my back pocket before the movie started. When I reached for it, I saw it only had four percent battery life. I could make only one phone call and it would have to be short. Without hesitation my fingers hastily dialed an all too familiar number. I rested the phone against my ear as I heard the systematic ringing and restlessly waited for someone to pick up.

Finally someone did, “Hello?”

“Mom!” I cried out. Tears instantly streamed down my face as I tried explained to her what happened.

“Mom I need you to come get me, I’m at the Anne Arundel mall. There was a shooting and I’m so scared. Oh God, what do I do?”

“I’m on my way, stay where yo-“ was all I heard before my phone died.

“Mom? Mom? Damnit!” I cried. I put my hands on my head, closed my eyes, and took a few deep breaths to center myself. I turned to face the rest of my group only to see that Cam was missing. Dan saw the confused look on my face and walked over to me.

“Yasmine was able to get in touch with Tonya. She said that Tonya was lying by the door to the theater, so Cam went to go find her” he informed me. I nodded slowly, hoping that both of them would arrive back soon and unharmed. The cold began to sink in as the adrenaline left my system. I stayed huddled next to Dan as I watched Kim and Jade comfort Yasmine. Time seemed to inch by as we waited for their return.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed before I heard footsteps approaching from behind. In the dark it was hard to see, but I could make out an odd hunchback shaped figure walking toward us.

“Cam?” Yasmine asked wearily.

“Yeah, it’s me” he responded in a somewhat strained voice. “I found her, but she’s not doing too well. She got trampled during the chaos.” Shocked by the news, I inched closer to see a small limp body on the back of Cam. Tonya was fading in and out of consciousness. He carefully laid her down on the ground as she let out a small whimper of pain.

“I saw an ambulance near the mall, I’m going to get its attention. Stay here, make sure to keep her awake.” Cam once again ran off into the darkness, searching for help. I watched as Yasmine was calmly talking to Tonya in an attempt to keep her conscious. Another unmeasurable amount of time passed before bright flashing lights came into view. The truck crossed the road and parked awkwardly on the side of clearing.

We made way for the two EMTs that withdrew from the truck, each carrying a large bag of medical supplies. I folded my arms across my chest, desperately trying to get warm. Cam approached me and put his jacket around me.

“Thanks.” I said in a grateful, yet tired voice.

“No problem. How are you holding up by the way?” The question was directed towards me, but he kept his eyes glued to the scene unfolding in front of him.

“Shaken, but I’m alive” I responded.

“It’s crazy how something like that could happen in a place like this. I guess nowhere is truly safe.” His voice reflected the sadness and anger he felt.

“I guess.” I said in a voice no louder than a whisper. I turned my attention back to Tonya and watched as the EMTs placed her on a stretcher. Yasmine volunteered to ride with her in the ambulance, while Dan and the others called a cab. I offered Cam a ride back to campus with me once my mother arrived, since I figured there wouldn’t be enough room for everyone to fit when the cab arrived. Eventually everyone was able to get back to campus. Tonya stayed in the hospital overnight and was treated for minor injuries. A week later I found out that the gunshots we heard were actually homemade firecrackers that someone set off to cause a scene. Firecrackers.

                              .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   . 

In a room packed to the brim with people, no one utters a word. I look around only to see blank stares gazing lifelessly towards a large screen. On it plays the summer’s number one box office hit; The Avengers: Age of Ultron. As the last thirty minutes start to creep away, a single bead of sweat rolls down my forehead. My heart begins to pound as my breaths become shallower. Time ticks away on what seems like an endless clock. Seconds pass, then minutes, yet I feel frozen in the moment. My patience withers with every passing second. I begin to stir and twitch in my seat. My hands clenched onto the armchairs like a drowning man would to a life preserver. I’m waiting, waiting for what seems like hours for something to happen. For the screams of terror to begin, the crazed running of panicked individuals, and the absentminded shoving of others as survival instincts take over. Yet silence is all I hear. Finally the movie ends. With a breath of relief I loosen my grip from the chair and rise from my seat. ‘You’re safe,’ I think to myself. ‘Nothing happened. No one got hurt. You’re safe.’

            Violence is everywhere. Even when we’re not looking, even when we don’t want to look, it’s there. It’s in the places you would expect it to be, like down dark alleyways in the middle of the night or in old abandoned houses, deep in the woods. Yet, it’s also in the places you believed were without a doubt, safe. For me, I experienced it first hand while in the company of friends and strangers, in a place I never thought would be the target of such chaos. I will never be able to see the world the same way again,

            With that final thought, I make my way out of the movie theater and towards the safety of my car, grateful I didn’t experience what I had before on March 4, 2014. The night that changed my life forever. “America’s 5,700 movie theaters remain one of the last major public gathering places without routine security…three incidents in three years have left 16 people dead and more than 80 injured” (Time)

Sources

http://time.com/movie-theater-shootings/

http://baltimore.cbslocal.com/2014/03/09/shots-fired-inside-arundel-mills-mall-turns-out-to-be-fireworks/

The Hidden Dangers of Spring Break

      Spring break, where the young have fun; lying underneath the summer sun, partying through the long hours of the night, disappearing without a trace. The dangers of spring break are harder to detect than one may realize. They are disguised beneath the laughs and alcohol that peruse the many beaches of popular spring break destinations. In an on-campus presentation about about health, safety and awareness during spring break, I was able to learn about the hidden dangers of spring break. Everyone is aware of the alcohol and drug abuse, yet people turn a blind eye to the mysterious deaths and disappearances that occur. In the month of March 2012, 30 died due to various causes of spring break. These dangers include kidnaping, drownings, and overdose. In order to protect oneself, one must take precaution and research the hotels and surrounding areas before they travel. One must also always stick to the buddy system and be aware of the people around one.

Word Count: 100

How One Summer Changed my Life

I worked as a camp counselor for my local equestrian center, called the Columbia Horse Center in Laurel, Maryland. Every summer and winter break the center was used as a day camp for children ages six to fourteen who had an interest in horseback riding. During one of the two week summer sessions, I encountered a girl named Ellie who had autism. Since I had never worked one-on-one with a child with autism, I was a little hesitant due to the fear of not being able to connect with Ellie, like I did with the other children at camp. I tried to suppress my fear of failure, by going about my normal routines. I showed Ellie the stalls and let her feed the horses. She always wanted to help with things around the barn, so while the other counselors looked after the rest of the children in camp, I let Ellie help with some of my chores and duties. I usually called her my little helper, and her response was always a big, cheeky grin and a loud laugh.

           Ellie taught me life skills that I will carry with me for the rest of my life. She taught me how to problem solve, how to figure out different ways to approach a difficult situation, and how to make the most out of what I have. Working with children who have autism (or any child with any disability) can have a great impact on one’s life, as it did mine. Not only will it improve their lives and show them that they are loved, cared for, and thought of, but it will also improve your life, by being open minded and accepting things that seem different or abnormal. One should always find a little time to spend at least one day with someone with a disability.

BSU fashion show

As a girl who modeled when she was younger, fashion shows were all too familiar. Yet I had never been to nor participated in a school-funded show. So, as I entered college I decided to attend a BSU fashion show, I was surprised by how different it was from others I have seen in the past. I was particularly interested in the fact that there was dancing. I have never seen models dance in a fashion show before, so witnessing this was an eye-opener for me. Although, it did have its differences, I could still see the similarities between the BSU show and others I have been to. Such as, requiring heels that were no less than six inches and wearing clothes made by local designers. Watching the BSU fashion show inspired me to join another school-funded fashion show. Now I am very excited to be participating in the upcoming ASA fashion show, which will take place on April 5th.

Somewhere in Between

I love to write, some may say I'm a writer. But as a writer, the one thing I struggle with is writing about myself. Ironic, right? But what I do love, is writing papers, especially research papers. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, "Arionna, you’re a nerd!" Yeah......I am. And I'm okay with that. I mean, my favorite things to do are watch the Lord of the Rings and play Assassin’s Creed, so “nerd" definitely fits me. I guess I’m not your average, run-of-the-mill college girl. I’m just somewhere in between normal and Pluto.