Last night more than 120 people were killed in terrorist attacks in Paris. Hostages, mass shootings and suicide bombings, all ten minutes from my flat.

I cannot pretend that I am remotely as affected as the people shot, their families and the witnesses. So first I would like to say that all of my compassion is with them, waking up to the horrific aftermath.

13th November 2015 is now a date marked in history, something which people will learn about in school in years to come. What is so odd is that for the most part of Friday 13th November I had no idea that that date would be in any way significant. I look back and remember my ignorant self from that afternoon, as if that unknowing person is completely different to who I am now. It is terrifying to contrast my own ignorance with the terrorists’ knowledge. They must have been planning this for months.

What I find dangerous as a bystander at this moment is the lure of the ‘what ifs’. What if I had bought tickets to see the concert at the Bataclan; what if I had suggested going for a drink at the Belle Equipe bar instead of inviting people over to mine; what if my friends had been caught in the shooting on the way to mine; what if someone I know had been eating in the Petit Cambodge restaurant? I could go on forever. These are all very real possibilities. Going to a bar or a restaurant 15 minutes from my flat happens frequently. I cannot be grateful enough that I didn’t choose those bars on that night.

Yesterday afternoon I got a notification saying that Gare de Lyon had been evacuated because of a suspicious package, but that happens all the time, doesn’t it? As my friends were walking up the stairs to my flat in the evening I got another notification saying that sounds of explosions had been heard at the Stade de France. Then my friends shouted up the stairs: “There have been shootings in Rue de Charonne.” They live near Charonne metro station. We turned on the TV, and as journalists managed to piece together the story, the horror was unveiled. I was seeing scenes on the TV but oddly that was my only exposure to the actual event, happening 10 minutes away from my flat. I hadn’t heard or seen anything in the flesh, even though it was so close and affecting the people that are so close to me.

The evening quickly turned from a drinks party to intense watching of the news, trying to find out more information. People were receiving hundreds of messages checking they were OK and everyone left the room more than once to receive a terrified call from a parent. We ourselves were desperately trying to reach everyone we knew to make sure they were safe. Had I remembered everyone? What did it mean if I hadn’t heard from them? I can only imagine what it must have been like for the French people in my building, for whom everyone they know lives in Paris.

And then the question: how long do we stay inside for? When will Paris be deemed safe? Have they killed all the attackers? Even if they have, there are many other terrorists out there in the world, possibly even in Paris. In big cities like this there is always a terrorism risk. As time went on following the Charlie Hebdo attacks in January, we had begun to feel more secure, so in a way it was only a matter of time until something pulled that security away from us again. Terrorists want people to be paranoid and scared, they want us to live in fear, and we must fight that. Schools, museums, gyms, swimming pools and markets have been closed today, and all sports matches have been cancelled: they have succeeded in damaging daily life and impinging upon our freedom. When deciding what to do it is so hard to balance sensible action with the upholding of values.

Reactions have been diverse. For the first time in history, France has declared a national state of emergency. Everyone is using the word ‘war’. People I know have gone to give blood today, as so much of it will be needed. Back in Cambridge, my college is flying its flag at half-mast to mourn those who lost their lives right next to my new home.

I am one of the lucky ones. Many were not so lucky. We must remain in solidarity with all of these people. We must do everything we can to help.

Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité.