Avery K. Tingle, The Gamer Author

I can’t imagine it, though my mind seems to want to. I force myself to, just in case I’m ever in a position to affect change.

It’s not the violence I imagine. It’s the aftermath.

It’s the people who have to walk through the classrooms, and lock things into memory they will never forget. It’s pools of blood, drying and sticking to the ground. It’s shell casings, their insides black and spent. They litter the classroom floor. It’s the bodies. Not all of them are whole. All of them are dead. All of them are riddled with bullet holes. Their clothes are pockmarked and bloodstained. Some of them closed their eyes as they died. Others didn’t. Their eyes are wretchedly open, clear, and empty. Some of them didn’t reach their tenth year.

I think about the mop that hits the ground. The bodies have all been picked up, zipped into bags, and taken away. The mop cleans the blood. Soap turns the blood pink as it fades. Soon, it’s gone.

There have been more than three thousand mass shootings since Sandy Hook. This will almost inevitably happen again. What I don’t understand, and never hope to understand, is how anyone can look upon this and think this is normal.

I’m too sensitive, I hear. This sort of thing happens every day. That doesn’t make it okay. That actually makes things far, far worse. This sort of thing should not happen every single day.

It’s the cost to bear arms, I hear. This one makes me want to throw up. No one’s rights should be above a child’s life. That we’ve allowed ourselves to come to this point is tantamount to justifying sociopathy. Children should not die for other people’s rights.

I’m an American citizen and I’m proud of my country. I love our diversity. But I cannot be blind to our toxicity. Children should not be paying the price for our apathy, and avarice. Parents should not be afraid of sending their children to school. And every single one of our elected officials should be ashamed of themselves for allowing, and in some cases, encouraging this. Then again, I don’t know if some of our officials can even feel shame.

Once again, I hope this sort of thing never happens again. Until then, never, ever ask me to be okay with dead children. You say I am too sensitive. I say you’re not sensitive enough.

Thanks for reading.

This article is dedicated to the memory of the Robb Elementary School Shooting on May 24, 2022. We failed you.