"World is cold, the bold men take action. Have to react or get blown into fractions."
Mountain Ridge High. Frostburg, Maryland. Hundreds of miles from Florida. Not very far from Baltimore. Walk into the cafeteria through the right hand doors, and the first flag in view is the Maryland state flag. Move to the right or left, and the American flag is in view, as well as gold, black, red, and white. Both flags were at half-staff today. For the 18th time this year. Another shooting. Another kid took a gun to school. More lives lost.
Lives lost for what? To prove a point? To strike fear? To achieve a goal? Lives lost in anger. Lives lost because of twisted morals. Because of broken people thinking that violence is the only solution to a cold world.
Gilmore, Maryland. A few minutes down the road from Frostburg.
Minutes To Midnight. Linkin Park. Hands Held High. An update of a book. Hoping that it'll do at least some good. Hoping that it will shine at least some light through brutal darkness.
"In my living room watching, but I am not laughing. When it gets tense, I know what might happen."
In the back of my mind, I can hear my father saying he'd do anything to protect his family. But in the truest part of my heart, I know he's afraid as I am. Afraid to log onto his Facebook and see something happen here or where we used to live. Something too much like what happened in Florida.
"Meanwhile, the leader just talks away. Stuttering and mumbling for nightly news to replay."
