On December 22, 2014, at about 11:00 p.m., I was in my bedroom wrapping Christmas presents while my 10-year-old daughter Sami practiced singing in her room. It was past her bedtime, but it was her first day of winter vacation and I just wanted her to be happy. I had a temporary restraining order against my ex-fiancé for domestic abuse, and he’d been out of the house for four days.

That’s when I heard the sound of breaking glass. My ex was kicking in the back door—I just knew it. And he was angry. Really angry.

He was drunk and waving a gun. He screamed at me that it was over and that now he had to kill me. I ran to Sami’s room and grabbed her. We had to flee our home. That’s when he fired the first shot. It hit my right leg and I fell to the ground as more and more shots rang out. I was shot three times. He pointed the gun at his head and ended his short reign of terror.

Sami and I were on the floor, desperately crawling toward each other. I couldn’t comprehend why she was having such a hard time making her way to me. As I came closer, I saw she had been shot—twice in the belly. I struggled to pull myself into an upright position so I could cradle her in my arms. Blood poured from her mouth and I begged her to hold on. “I’m going to die, aren’t I, Mama?” she said. “No, baby,” I screamed. “You’re going to be okay.” The paramedics and police arrived after 20 minutes, but it was too late. My baby gasped one last breath and fell limp in my arms. I watched as the life drained out of Sami’s beautiful blue eyes.

Samantha Nicole Bodine was 10 years, 10 months, and 10 days old when her life was taken. Now she would be 12. She was a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a cousin, a niece, a granddaughter, a pet owner, and dear friend. She was a gifted singer with dreams of being on The Voice, a talented writer, and an up-and-coming volleyball player. She dreamed of becoming a veterinarian or marine biologist. She was my gentle giant, for at just 10 years old, she stood nearly 5 feet 4 inches. She was an old soul who was kind to every person she knew, and every person she knew was better for having known her. She was the reason I got up in the morning. She was my best friend.

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It took me six months to recover from the injuries, and I still suffer constant physical pain. But the emotional turmoil can’t be quantified. I have PTSD and nightmares, flashbacks, survivor’s guilt, and, yes, even recurring occasional thoughts of suicide. After the attack, I couldn’t hold down a job. I lost my car and my home and had to move in with my father for six months. I still owe more than $100,000 in medical bills. I still don’t work.

I grieve the loss of Samantha every day. I also relish any opportunity to speak of her and remember her. It is because of her gentle nature, her kindness, and her faith that I am able to move forward with love in my heart.

The man who murdered my Sami was on bail pending domestic violence assault charges against me. He had a prior felony conviction, and was not legally allowed to have a firearm. And yet the very day he was released from jail he purchased a 9mm handgun with no questions asked. He simply went online and found an unlicensed gun seller. In less than five minutes, he destroyed multiple lives. The most terrifying thing about what happened to my family is that it is not extraordinary. Domestic and gun violence are an epidemic in this country.

I used to watch a lot of crime shows and think, Oh, my gosh, that’s so terrible. You don’t think it’s going to happen to you. And then it does. It’s hard for me to tell my story, but I hope there’s another mother out there who says, “Maybe I should leave him.”

I now have a boyfriend and I live with him on his farm. I spend a lot of time with animals, as well as my 26-year-old daughter and my grandkids. My friends call this my “new normal,” but it doesn’t feel normal at all.

Gun Safety is a series about gun violence in America, with a new essay appearing each day until National Gun Violence Awareness Day, on June 2. To learn more about what you can do to prevent gun violence, and to participate in the Wear Orange campaign, go to WearOrange.org.