Ky still remembers the day she lost two of her best friends in a school shooting. On May 20, 2018, a gunman opened fire at Santa Fe High School, just outside Houston, killing 10 students and staff—including Shana and Aaron, friends she had known since elementary school. Eight years later, the grief remains sharp.
Ky first met Shana in first grade when they rode the school bus together and bonded over My Little Pony. Shana gave her the nickname “Fluffy” because of her frizzy hair. She met Aaron in fifth grade after accidentally breaking his ankle during a softball game. Their friendship deepened through shared interests, particularly music—bands like Black Veil Brides and Waterparks became a common ground. By 2018, Ky had found stability despite earlier struggles with bullying and Hurricane Harvey’s devastation in the area. That morning, she boarded the bus with Aaron, splitting an Ultra Red Monster Energy Drink as they always did, discussing a new song released the night before.
At school, Ky saw Shana for the last time in the cafeteria before heading to biology class. Minutes later, the fire alarm blared. Students evacuated outside, where Ky saw a bleeding student being loaded into an ambulance. Only then did she realize it wasn’t a drill; it was a shooting. The next hours passed in a blur. She texted friends, scrolled Facebook for updates, and waited for replies that never came. When she arrived home, she sat in the dark, processing the news that 10 people had died. At a vigil that evening, she learned Aaron was among the victims. Back home, she saw Shana’s photo on TV and collapsed, screaming when she confirmed their deaths.
Grief’s Lingering Shadow on Daily Life
The funerals were delayed by investigations. Ky attended the viewings, where seeing Shana’s casket, her makeup applied differently, a headband covering a wound, triggered overwhelming grief. “It didn’t look anything like her,” she said. “They didn’t do her makeup how she did it.” The school reopened weeks later, but nothing felt normal. Ky failed a class for the first time. Riding the bus past Aaron’s stop forced her to relive the loss every day.
Over the next three years in high school, she struggled. Music was the only thing that could calm her down, but she still doesn’t think the loss has gotten any easier, “it just got more manageable,” she said. At school, she felt like she was going through the motions. Once she graduated in 2021, she struggled with which direction to go in, briefly attending college before dropping out. She later became a tattoo artist, an homage to her two best friends. “Especially Shana.
Shana taught me how to draw,” Ky said. “I see tattoos as a way of turning pain into art.” Ky has stepped away from tattooing for a little bit, but hopes to go back to it one day. In the meantime, she’s a manager at a local seafood restaurant. She hopes her friends will get justice as the school shooter has repeatedly been declared incompetent to stand trial. “I just wanted to go to school,” Ky said. With that taken away, she now just wants to see the shooter “going to trial, actually being convicted and finally seeing justice served.” Did you use this article in your work?
Turning Pain into Art
Music remained her only consistent escape. Bands like Black Veil Brides and Waterparks, shared tastes with Shana and Aaron, helped dull the edges of her grief. But even that relief was temporary. “It just got more manageable,” she said, not easier. The pain never fully left; it simply learned to coexist with her daily life. By graduation in 2021, she was adrift, unsure of what came next. College felt like a distraction she couldn’t afford, so she dropped out and turned to tattooing.
