Growing up in the most dangerous city in the world

Caracas is Venezuela's capital. A very busy city with a lot of people. I don't know how many millions there are and I don't want to know, but I remember a time when everyone wanted to come and live in Caracas. I still have many friends that talk about how many good things can people do here instead of inland cities. As the most important city in the country, we're supposed to have the best things.

Well, Caracas is the best at being the most dangerous city.

Fortunately, I was lucky to have a very normal childhood. I lived in the city center and spent most of the time at home playing games and going to school. My family and I used to travel a lot on vacations to a beach house we still have and that was all about it. I didn't realize that every single day the place where I live was becoming more and more dangerous.

Until I had 12.

I remember that was the first time I saw a gun, and it was aimed in front of my aunt while she and I were seated on a bus seat. It was a couple. We were scared but I think they were even more scared, the guy was shaking and so was his gun. He screamed at us "GIVE US ALL YOU HAVE", I had my phone in my pocket but I was so petrified that I couldn't do anything. My aunt gave him her phone and they decided to run away with that only.

I don't know how long it took but by the moment I realized they were gone. But not before the rest of the people in the bus that ran away at the moment they realized they could get their things stolen.

The second time was two years after, I think. I was with my childhood best friend walking after music classes finished and some guy got out from a motorcycle while his friend kept running it, showed us his gun and told us that if we give him everything we had and just treated him as a friend he wouldn't do us anything. We did as he asked and then he left after he made us gave him a kiss on the cheek.

I remember my friend crying right after.

However, as scary as these experiences may sound to you I've been lucky. I wasn't kidnapped or worse. I'm lucky because I was robbed only twice and because I'm alive. I'm as fine as someone could be in the most dangerous city in the world.

Nowadays, I suffer from anxiety and panic attacks. I don't go out alone unless I really had to and I don't really like to get out from my house, honestly. I think that almost all the people that live in Caracas live in an eternal anxiety trip where you look at every face and all look suspicious. Therefore, you can't trust anyone. Some people here still have some positivism in them, though. I like to be around those people, friends or family.

Even the most terrible storms have a light at the end. I know that we still have a light and we are going to be fine soon.