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November 28, 2025
“Mom, look, this one’s 50 percent off! I’ve been wanting this for ages!” I exclaimed, waving the Benefit Cookie Highlighter in the air and gesturing enthusiastically at my mom. She came over and smiled, encouraging me to make a purchase. I had spent the afternoon shopping at Westfield Valley Fair mall for the worthy Black Friday deals, and we had just hit our fifth store—“a flow state,” as one could call it. I held onto my mom’s arm as we wandered deeper into the store, smelling expensive perfumes and testing Laneige’s latest collection of tropical lip oils. Suddenly, a rush of footsteps flooded in my direction. Puzzled and strangely unfazed, I peeked over the aisle and was shocked to see people frantically stampeding toward me. “What is going on?” I muttered, feeling trembling discomfort trickle in to replace my confusion.
My mom grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the back of the store. “I don’t know, honey, but we have to go.” I gripped her arm tightly, and we ran with the group of frantic shoppers to the back of Sephora. As we made our way, everyone scrambled against each other—some screaming, some crying, and many asking the Sephora employees what was going on. I pressed against the perfume wall, my heart racing out of my chest as my eyes darted around to figure out what on earth was going on.
“Active shooter.” I froze at the words. Cold sweat drained down the palms of my hands, and my Benefit Cookie Highlighter slipped from my weakening grasp. It didn’t matter anymore. I had to get out of there. Everything went into panic mode. People started pushing viciously from behind, trying to reach the backdoor exits as quickly as possible. I pushed forward too, gripping my mom’s hand as we followed the crowd down the emergency pathway. When we scurried out, we found ourselves in the parking garage on the first floor. Still panting and shaking from running, my mom and I blended into the sea of panic and confusion. For a moment, we let our guard down and slowed to a walk to catch our breath.
Suddenly, screams sliced through the air. I jerked my head to my right and saw a monstrous crowd of people flailing toward the street in front of me. My mom grabbed my arm, and we ran too, sprinting onto the crosswalk with cars beeping and skidding in every direction. My feet thudded against the uneven sidewalk, my legs giving away with every fearful step. When we finally slowed to a tired crawl, we were already three blocks away, and the scene around me was settling down. It was when I heard the chorus of police cars and ambulances blaring behind me that I realized what had happened: I just escaped an active shooter. I still could not fully register it when I walked down the almost quiet street. I still could not fully register it when I got into my dad’s car to drive home. And I still can not fully register it even as I write this article three hours later.
Police have identified two injuries so far from the shooting, and information about the suspect has not yet been released. My prayers go out to those two victims and everyone who this horrible event has impacted.
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