Years ago. I remember walking through the Creswell Hall lobby and wondering why everyone was slowing down to look at the TV's. I slowed down to look at the TV's. The breaking news splayed across the bottom of the screen said "Littleton, Colorado".
Now this, and the words say "Blacksburg, Virginia."
In the end, there will be survivor's guilt, images of men with badges dragging bloodied broken bodies from classrooms, wails of young people who lost friends and parents who lost children. The talking heads will have a contest to see who can attach the most appropriate adjectives. There will be no appropriate adjectives. Politicians will offer as much as they can, which is nothing much, at this point. This group will blame one thing or the other, blame will look to be assigned. People will cry out for justice that can never done.
Most of the time, the monsters are content to take from the shadows, and we don't have to think about it, really. Sometimes they take from us loudly, forcing us to rally around our torches for a while, for the warmth.
On days like today, the monsters reach up and slap us in the face so hard all we can be is angry and rage at how helpless we are, wondering why the world just can't be a better place than it is, because sometimes all the vigilance and plans and defenses we create just aren't enough to keep the monsters away.
Sometimes all we can do is promise ourselves to spend what time we have here a little more wisely. Me? I think I'm gonna go see if my cousins are playing in their new grass.