NIU

I was at the Northern Star newsroom when I heard about the shootings. A bunch of us grabbed pens and our notebooks and ran to Cole Hall. My fellow reporters were staying outside, because they thought going into one of the building would mean they’d be put on lock down and miss the story. I went into the Holmes Student Center to cover the emotions of the students in there. I never expected what I actually saw. I didn’t understand the gravity of the situation until I walked inside the student center and saw one student covered in blood, a blank stare on his face, another suffering a gunshot wound. It’s an image I will never forget. That’s when I realized it was more serious, when I realized the gravity of the situation. I felt a sinking sensation.

NIU

I lived in an apartment across the street from Neptune North Hall and Cole Hall. I was leaving my apartment for class when I saw people running out from behind the Student Center. Everyone on the street including myself was corralled into a nearby building. People were crying and praying. I couldn’t call out on my cell phone, because so many people were trying to call as well at the same time. I just couldn’t be in that room anymore, so I snuck out a side door that said an alarm would sound if I opened it. I figured all the alarms were going off anyways. I walked through a small wooded area behind the building to get back to the street my apartment was on. When I was almost home, I saw one of my friends wandering blank faced in the streets. He walking past Cole Hall when it happened. He came back to my place with me, and we watched the news. He was super shaken up. He kept saying that he thought he walked through blood and that he thought it was on his shoes. I didn’t see any blood, but I wiped them off anyways. It made him feel better. After a few hours, our other friends started coming over since the apartment was so close to campus. I was glad to not be alone.

NIU

That day I was studying in my dorm room for a test I had later that day. My room overlooks Cole Hall. I used to zone out my window looking at the students walking around the fountain just in front of the building. I never could have imagined what I saw that day. I didn’t hear any gun shots, but I heard the screams of the students running from the building. I was so scared. I locked my door, grabbed my cell phone, and hid under my lofted bed. I sat alone in that spot for three hours before the cell towers let my mom’s call through.

NIU

News spread about the shooting at Cole Hall within minutes. Confused whispers filtered into classrooms and dormitories about 3:10 pm The whispers became louder and more insistent inside my public relations class in DuSable Hall with John Puterbaugh, the school newspaper’s editor-in-chief. We knew something terrible had happened at Cole, but not what. Many of us worked for the Northern Star, so when we left class, we went looking for the story. We were being pulled in a lot of different directions emotionally and professionally. On one hand, we were student journalists trying to do our job of covering the story. But on the other, we were part of the story and we were being interviewed by other media about covering the story. And another part of it was we were students and colleagues of people lost in the tragedy. So it was tough to figure out at times what role to play.

NIU

I was in the building next door with my boyfriend. He was originally signed up for that class but I talked him into taking the class I had. We got out early and were waiting for the bus. We saw people running, and then a kid said there was a shooting. I’ll never forget that terrifying walk/run back to my dorm praying there wasn’t another shooter around the corner.

NIU

I was in an art class when the school went on lock down. My classmates and I were making jokes about it until I saw that I had a voicemail from my dad asking if I was okay. A couple other students got texts asking if they were alright, but the phone towers were so saturated no one was able to dial out. We checked the University web page, and it said there was a shooter on campus and 30 people were injured or dead. As I walked home from class that day the campus was eerily quiet. I walked and prayed with the silence. I felt sad, but also guilty; I wasn’t as torn up or effected as others. In some ways, I didn’t know if I could feel anything at all. I was numb. Painting allowed me to release emotions I didn’t even know I had. Sometimes when you ‘create’ you don’t know why; you just do.

NIU

It feels like it happened to me years and years ago. Even when I was there just laying on the floor, it was just so unreal. I was mad, and I was really upset for a long time, and I just wanted to scream from the top of my lungs, but there’s no reason for me to be angry with him if there’s nothing I can do about it. I went back, because I felt that was the way for me to heal completely, emotionally. Right after I got out of the room I felt like it was over. The doors are closed. Let’s move on.

NIU

I remember sitting at the Junction restaurant with a good friend the night of the shooting. I felt completely overwhelmed and helpless. I felt anxious just sitting there drinking coffee, thinking about everything that was happening just across the street on campus: armed police officers from every town in Northern Illinois, news helicopters, and a lot of caution tape. There was a moment where I could not sit there any longer—I knew I had to do something with the anxiety, fear, and pain growing inside of me. So I started texting all of my friends to meet me in central park between the dormitories to sing our hearts out to God. I wasn’t exactly sure what we would do or what songs we would play, but I knew that it would be healing for all of us to be together and express ourselves in one enjoined chorus of grief and a longing for answers. It was freezing that night—but within that little circle of people singing, there was a supernatural kind of warmth. My hands hurt while I strummed and tried to hold down the chords, but I didn’t care. After a few minutes I opened my eyes and realized that cameras had flooded the scene from various local news organizations. It all felt so surreal. I was interviewed regarding why we had joined together that night. The next morning when I woke up, I learned that my neighbor in the dorms freshman year was one of the students killed in the shooting. It took awhile to feel comfortable in my own skin again.