If I die in a mass shooting, know that I do not want your thoughts and prayers

If I die in a mass shooting, place the remains of me on display.

Show the world what they did to my body. Open the casket and let everyone see that real gunshots appear differently than they do in movies or video games.

I want the wails of my family and friends to echo down congressional hallways and stream through capitol doors.

Opinion

If I die in a mass shooting, know that I died sobbing, my eyes stinging, my hands up as I pleaded for my life in the presence of the shooter who murdered me with the tacit assistance of everyday people who valued guns more than our lives.

If I die in a mass shooting, know that I feared dying from gun violence with my whole heart. Know that I do not want your thoughts and prayers.

If I die in a mass shooting, I hope the community mourns us for longer than one news cycle. I hope they use a photo of me laughing in a moment of joy. I hope I am remembered as a friend. I hope every year, they gather around the spot where I was killed with candles and tears.

If I die in a mass shooting, please call my father. Tell him to sit down, and make sure someone holds his calloused hands when you give him the news. He’s going to need more help to get through this than will be offered to him.

I can hear his voice saying, “Children should not die before their parents.” Someone, please remind him that his life is still worth living without mine in it. Tell him to spread my ashes in the same places he scattered my mother’s.

If I die in a mass shooting, I hope they kill me quickly. I hope that I don’t have to listen to the unspeakable sounds of other people on the floor around me succumbing to the same fate, as I slowly lose consciousness, too.

If I die in a mass shooting, don’t question why I was present in the place I was killed. Whether it’s at 2 a.m. on downtown streets or in a movie theater — or at a school, a concert, in a grocery store, or in church — know that I was simply enjoying my life that day.

If I die in a mass shooting, know that I didn’t make a bad choice or turn down the wrong alley: This is simply life in America now. There’s nothing I could have done to stop it.