Just one day can change your life forever. For students at Santana High School in Santee, CA, March 5 was that day. You've probable read about it. At 9:22 a.m. Charles Andrew Williams, a 15-year-old freshman at Santana, allegedly went on a shooting spree in the campus's small quad. Before police found Andy, as he is known, in the boys batheroom and led him away in handcuffs only minutes after he began his random firing, 14-year-old Bryan Zuckor and 17-year-old Randy Gordon were dead and 13 others were wounded by gunshots.
I arrived on the scene March 6, not knowing what to expect. What I found was chaos. Trucks and tents set up by news companies like CNN were across the street from the sprawling campus. Teary-eyed students carried stuffed animals, flowers, and ballons to a memorial that grew bigger and bigger by the second. And plice and parents tried to protect the kids.
Everyone was wondering what went wrong. Many people blame the fact that his father kept guns in the house. Some students say Andy snapped because he was constantly teased and called a scrawny dork. HIs father thinks it might have been because Andy was completely depressed about moving from Maryland to Twentnine Palms, CA, and then to Santee, leaving many of his friends and elatives back East. Later, Andy told police that he hated his life so much, he had planned to save a bullet to kill himself if they hadn't found him first.
In Santee, I met more than 20 students and their parents. Talking to three particular girls for almost a month has made it harder for me to look at what happend from an outsider's perspective. For instance, I know that Allision, like me, loves Outkast and enjoys reading. Cyndel and her mother (whom she is really tight with) are saving up for a trip to go backpacking across Europe. Shelp is constantly active with family and friends. She's hardly ever home when I call her.
It was just like the tragedies at Columbine High School in Colorado last year, and Granite Hills High in El Cajon, CA, less than three weeks after Santee: No one thought it could happen here. And no matter who you are and who you know, life on this campus will never be the same.

CYNDEL VAN GELDER,17,10TH GRADE: "ANDY IS A FRIEND OF MINE."
I usually take the city bus to school, but that morning my mom dropped me off at about 9:15 a.m. As I turned the corner to go to my favorite class, world history, i heard some loud, popping sounds. I was startled but kept moving, thinking the noice was made by firecrackers or poppers on the floor. Then I noticed a crowd running toward me. I went back to the bathroom where my friends were and said, "I think someon's shooting." They were all like, "Yeah. RIght, Cydel," and they were kind of laughing about it. I said, "No, I Think there really is."
We peeked out the door of the bathroom and saw someone lying on the ground. When we heard more loud bands, we realized that they might be shots. We ran to the nearest classroom. We weren't even thinking. It didn't seem real. We were joking about getting to go home early. There were 10 of us and a teacher One girl was crying while her boyfriend was holding her. Some people were trying to use cell phones, but they wouldn't work. Othere were e-mailing their parents. I stoon on a table looking out the window to see what was happening.
I saw a bunch of men holding guns and wearing dark vests--a SWAT team. Then two policement were holding a guy in handcuffs. All I said was "Oh my God, it's Andy." He's a friend of mine. I hung out with him sometimes at the skate park (he's a skater) or at the Carefree Apartments, where he and my friend Vanessa live. He's always really nice,, smiling and laughing--normal I guess. It had to be a mistake. When this happened at Columbine and other schools, it was like watching a bad horror movie, and then going back to whatever else I was doing before. Here, my friend was getting arrested.
After another 10 minutes, we were let out. I ran outside of the school. When I saw my friend Courtney in tears, it made me start crying, too. There were so many sirens and flashing lights in front of the school, it was hard to find people. I looked around for Andy. I knew he was probably in a ploice car, but I didn't see him anywhere. When I finally found my mom, she held me really tight. My heart was beating fast and so was hers.
The next day I went to school and there were counselors in every classroom. I walked in on a girl saying something cruel about Andy. The room got quiet. I stood up and said, "You don't understand that he was also a victim. Obviously, he didn't see that big of a future for himself to do what he did." I know everybody's mad at him because they lost friends. But I lost a friend, too. However, Andy hurt a lot of people, and he can't take it back.
I stayed in school two days and then I took off Thursday, Friday, and Monday. The sadness just hit me at once. I kept remember the fun times I had with Andy, like trick-or-treating last Halloween. ON the television news, it looked like him, but he seemed kind of empty. I wish, in a way, he would have told me. I'm not saying that I could have toalked him out of it. A lot of people were upset that Andy's friends didn't say anthing. If I went to school and said I'm gonna go on a shooting rampage, no one would believe me. I know that defending him isn't going to make me popular. But I feel bad for him, too.
Everything is back to normal now--as much as possible. We are all healing. I hope Andy is, too. I wrote him a letter. I told him, "what you did was wrong, confusing and unthinkable, but I'm not going to turn my back on you. Your friends are still your friends." I told him that I am praying that they charge him as a juvenile. I still care about him, and I hope he writes back.

SHELBY WHITECOMB, 15, 9TH GRADE: "IT ALL SEEMED LIKE A JOKE."
After typing class, I was hungry, so I decided to get a cookie from one of the snack carts in the small quad. My friends and I strolled along. On the way, I was startled by a loud noise I thought was a cap gun. People were immediately running, but we thought they were goofing around. It seemed like someone was playing a joke. Before I could react, a guy whose face I couldn't see came out of the bathroom, holding a gun. He shot a narc (what we call a campus supervisor) in the back. As the narc stubled and struggled, he told everybody to run.
I was in so much shock, I just stood in a hallway across from the bathroom. A teacher I didn't know pulled a bunch of us into a classroom and locked the door. No one knew what was happening on the other side of the wall. Some kids were desperately trying to reach their parents on my friend Jessica's cell phone. All I could think about was my twin brother, Robby, and older sister, Shannon, who also goes to Santana. It was weird because at school I normally don't wonder what they are doing.
We had the news on and our school looked like a war zone. I was in it and sort of trapped! So we waited until a group of people in uniforms knocked on the door, surrounded us, and told us not to look as we walked out. I was so curious, I did. Here was a dead body and I was terrified. I could tell it was a boy, but I couldn't tell who. He was lying there completely still, not covered at all. I was wondering if he was someone I knew. I was thinking of all the people, wondering if they were okay or not.
There took us across the street to a parking lot. My mom was crying and very relieved to see me. She already found my brother and sister. we all went home and turned on the news. They announced that Andy had been arrested for the shooting. I know him! I'm friends with the girlfirend of a friend of his. He came over a couple times in a group. I'm sad he was so hurt that he felt like he had to ruin lives, including his own. I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that I was right there across from him and I didn't get shot. I know I was lucky.
The next dad, my mom questioned whether we should go back. But we went. We had counseling and didn't do any work. We said prayers fro everyone. But no matter what, I don't feel safe anymore. The only way I get my mind off of it is to keep busy with friends, either shopping at the mall or haning out. It was a hard month. First I was sick. Then my grandfather was in the hospital. Then this happened. I have just tried to stay positive.

ALLISION NICHOLS, 14, 9TH GRADE: "LOSING BRYAN HURTS THE MOST."
At 9 a.m., my best friend, Nikki, and I walked to school together, like we do every day. We got caught up chatting with a friend at the back of the school where the PE lockers are, and started to go to our classes in the small quad. In the hallway, we saw some people running as the five-minute bell rang. I thought it was a joke. So we kept walking.
Then I saw someone fall down. I froze. I was thinking, Did he just trip? Is he kidding? Kids were shouting, "someone's shooting people." I started screaming in a total panic, "Let's go!" Nickki grabbed me and we rushed outside to the back of the school and up a small hill. My friend, Rigo, saw us from his car, picked us up, and took us to my house.
When we got there, I called my mom at work. I could speak, so Nikki had to tell her. She came hom immediately and found us huddled on the couch. She turned on the news. I cried harder with every word the reporters said.
As the day went on, the number of victims kept getting larger and larger. Then the newsman said a person died, but didn't say who. It was terrifying. I wouldn't turn off the TV until I found out if any of my really good friends were hurt.
Nikki and I were desperately calling friends to see if they were okay. For hours, we got a lot of busy signals. My eyes were puffy and red. I had tissues all over the place. I even went through a roll of toilet paper. It was really good to have Nikki there because we helped each other from shaking.
I ended up spending the night at my friend Jessica's. Even though I needed to sleep, I couldn't. My eyes were dry and hurt, and I had a really bad headache. I was trembling so much, it took me quite some time to go to bed. I kept seeing myself standing in the small quad, like a video playing over and over, while all these people were rushing around.
The next morning, most of us went back to school. My first class, Spanish, is in the small quad. I wasn't ready to look at the site of the shooting. So I kept my eyes on the ground as I walked there arm-in-arm with my friend Amber. My teacher noticed that I was having a difficult time, so she sent me to counseling.
I've had a hard time dealing with how I feel about Andy. Everybody said that what made him crack was that he was teased. From my point of view, a lot of people liked him. I didn't know him very well. But it doesn't seem like he would have ever thought of doing something so terrible.
I knw everyone that got injured or killed, but losing Bryan Zuckor hurts the most. Last term we had a class togeth. He wasn't that geeky, but most people made fun of him a little bit. He liked cartoons, which is kind of nerdy, I guess. I always liked talking to him. We hang out and talk between running laps in PE class, or whatever we were doing that day and he would tell me how he wanted to be a veterinarian when he got older--so do I. I can't believe that someone so innocent is gone.
A few sdays after, we had an assembly for Randy and BRyan. Everyone got a teddy bear and a T-shirt that said "Sultans Forever" in a gold cursive. On the back, it said, "One School, One Heart, In Memory of Randy and Bryan." It's been really sad. I've talked with my PE teacher, Ms. Ferris, the one whose class I had with Bryan. I think she and I have been helping each other. This year the whole track team is running in memory of Bryan and Randy.
At school, adults have asked if we think there should be more gun control. I think there is gun control already. Andy's dad had the gun in a cabinet, under lock and key. Andy knew where to find that key. So I don't think anything would have been any different. My parents don't think it was the school's fault and neither do I. But if it happened here, it can happen anywhere.