“This is not okay!” Isabelle screamed in a microphone in a parking lot. She wore the shirt her mom had made. It said J & S’s Story on the front and a picture of two smiling boys on the back. “Since when did shootings of any kind become a thing to expect in the US? It’s not normal. It shouldn’t be normal!”
            The crowd around her screamed in an agreement and she smiled a little.
            “Every year, we put up with this and it happens again and again, in schools, in malls, in neighborhoods. When will we look to other countries and learn from what they did?” Isabelle looked in the crowd and her Mom and Dad were smiling at her with pride as she continued. “In a survey, people in the US were asked when the last mass shooting was, most answered last week, last month, some even said yesterday.”
            The crowd booed and Isabelle heard helicopters above her. She hoped they were TV and not the cops.
            “It is not okay for people to answer that a mass shooting was yesterday.” Isabelle said flatly. “In the same survey, the group of people asked a country that banned machine guns and other big guns when its last mass shooting was. Most said, the 1980s 90s.”
            Isabelle took a deep breath and swallowed.
            “We can do that too. We just need to ban weapons that are used for these purposes. This does not mean to ban all guns, just ones that pose the most danger to humans. This does not take away the second amendment, but no one needs a machine gun for hunting. If people use it, it is mainly to hurt other people. Many people. This problem ends today. My brothers, Tyler and Shawn, will not be remembered as teens who died in a school shooting, but as people who helped this movement go so much farther!”
            A woman walked close to Isabelle with a megaphone. She wore a similar shirt. It had, Kylie’s story on the front and a smiling girl on the back. “My daughter was a freshman at Tony Hall. She was only 14 and with one blow, we see how fragile human life really is. I stand with Izzie and with sharing our stories. These kids will not be remembered as just kids but as legacies.”
            A man took the spot next to Isabelle as the woman walked off. He wore a shirt with one boy and one girl on the back. The front was blank. He took the microphone from Isabelle and she hugged him. “My children were not killed during this terrifying hour, but they were hurt. And many of the deaths at the school were their friends and family. It’s time for change.”
            “This is the time.” Isabelle said and sighed. “2060 is not too late to save a child’s life!”