FSU campus shooting: What can I do?

What can I do?

It’s a question I ask myself almost weekly.

Sitting in class, eyes flicking toward the door, I picture what I’d do if someone walked in with a gun.

Can I run? Should I hide? What would make a good barricade?

These aren’t passing thoughts anymore — they’re part of my daily routine. They’ve embedded themselves into what it means to be a student in America.

And April 17, that nightmare became real again.

At 11:50 a.m., just miles from where I sat in a classroom, a student opened fire on the Florida State University campus. A 20-year-old — someone not unlike me, from my community — brought a gun into the very place students call their home and used it to try and end lives.

The student union, once filled with laughter, food, and friends, became a final resting place.

“I thought it was the roof collapsing at first.”

That’s what one student said after being trapped inside a classroom, listening to the screams of peers just outside the door.

Shot. Shot. Shot. Pause. Shot. Shot. Shot. Pause.

That’s what others remember — the rhythm of violence echoing through the place that once gave them peace.

If you were lucky, you didn’t hear it. You didn’t feel the vibrations. You didn’t see the bodies.

But if you were there, in it — you’ll never unsee it. Never unhear it.

You’ll carry it with you every time you walk that campus. Every time you walk through that door. Every time someone drops a heavy book.

So now, ask yourself again: What can I do?

You can run.

You can hide.

You can pray.

But you want to know what won’t keep you alive?

Prayers alone.

Thoughts and prayers didn’t stop the gunman.

Thoughts and prayers didn’t silence the shots.

Thoughts and prayers didn’t save the people who never made it home.

What else can I do?

I can speak. I can write. I can scream, if that’s what it takes to get someone — anyone — to listen.

Because the truth is brutal:

I’m scared to go to school.

I’m scared that I’ll be next.

I’m scared that no one with power cares.

And what’s worse? I know I’m not alone.

We are now part of a generation raised in active shooter drills. A generation who texts ‘I love you’ to their parents with shaking hands while crouching under a desk. A generation who expects — at some point — to become a statistic.

That word. Statistic.

That’s all my life might add up to one day. A number on a screen. A bar on a graph. A percentage on a “Gun Violence in Schools” infographic.

Not a person. Not a future. Just another headline.

We didn’t sign up for this.

We signed up for an education. For a shot at a future. Not to run from bullets or be collateral damage in a broken system.

So, if you’re reading this and you do have power — if you are a lawmaker, a leader, or someone who claims to care — then listen.

Do something

We don’t need more condolences. We need change.

We don’t need more press conferences. We need protection.

We don’t need to prepare better for mass shootings. We need to stop them from happening in the first place.

Because this ends in two ways:

Either we continue to live in fear — or you step up, and we finally live in safety.

I am angry. I am broke. I am scared.

But I am still here.

And I will not be silent.

Luke Bahmer is a Chiles High School student in Tallahassee who writes about community, connection, and the courage it takes to speak up for what matters.

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This article originally appeared on Tallahassee Democrat: FSU campus shooting: What can I do? | Opinion