“He Looked Right at Me”: Madison Askins Speaks Out After Surviving Florida State University Shooting
In the immediate aftermath of the horrific shooting at Florida State University, one image from the chaotic scene spread across social media with lightning speed—haunting, surreal, and unforgettable. A young woman lay on the university lawn, visibly injured, as another person nearby sipped from a Starbucks cup, seemingly unaware of—or emotionally numbed by—the unfolding tragedy.
That young woman was 23-year-old Madison Askins. Today, she’s no longer just a viral image—she’s a survivor sharing her voice, her pain, and her harrowing account of what happened that day.
Speaking with NBC during her recovery, Askins recounted the terrifying moments when gunfire erupted on campus. She had been walking with a friend when the shooter began firing. Instinct took over. She ran—but in the chaos and confusion, she fell. Her friend, trying to help her up, became a momentary shield as bullets rang out. Askins was hit in the rear, a wound that, while physically survivable, now carries emotional weight far beyond the scar.
“I remember trying to get up,” she said quietly. “I remember the panic, the screams. And then he looked at me.”
In that chilling moment—just a few yards away—the shooter paused. Askins, injured and vulnerable, made eye contact with the person holding the gun. What happened next was a terrifying twist of fate: he turned and walked away.
Why did he spare her? Askins can’t say. “I think about it every day,” she admitted. “Was it because I was already down? Was it mercy, hesitation, or just randomness? I don’t know. But I’m still here. I don’t know why—but I am.”
Her words are filled with emotion, a blend of survivor’s guilt and quiet strength. It’s the kind of reflection that no one should have to make, and yet one that far too many in this country find themselves grappling with after gun violence disrupts lives and shatters any illusion of safety.
In the days following the attack, Askins’ image went viral for reasons that were equal parts surreal and sobering. As she lay bleeding, the indifference or numbness of someone standing nearby sipping coffee became a symbol—of how normalized mass violence has become, how our responses have become fragmented, and how public suffering often turns into silent spectacle.
But Madison Askins is not a spectacle. She’s a young woman who nearly lost her life, who saw death just feet away, and who now carries forward with courage and clarity. Her physical recovery is progressing well, doctors say, but the emotional road will take longer.
The identity and motives of the shooter are still being investigated, and no clear answers have yet emerged. The campus remains shaken, students and faculty alike left to process the trauma of what they witnessed. For many, the image of Askins on the lawn will forever be burned into memory—not just for the violence, but for the resilience that followed.
In the meantime, Madison is taking each day as it comes. She’s thankful to be alive, thankful for the friend who stayed by her side, and thankful for the medical teams who saved her life. She’s also calling for a deeper reckoning with how society deals with violence, trauma, and human empathy.
“I just hope people don’t forget,” she said. “Not about me. But about what happened. About all of us.”
Her words are a quiet call for change in a world too often desensitized. A world where a young woman bleeding on the lawn of her university became a viral clip—but now, finally, is becoming a voice.
And her voice matters.