A single gunshot rips through the silence of a peaceful small town night.
One teenager lies on the floor a note in one hand and a gun in the other.
The police and the ambulances arrive quick but not quick enough.
A mother cries out in agnony as she holds her dead child's body.
A mother now wonders.
Wonders how
how her sweet baby got ahold of a gun.
Wonders why.
Why she hadn't seen that her baby was hurting sooner?
Why they had done it?
Why God allowed this to happen?
The paramedics check everything but quickly declare the child dead.
A child no more than teenager sleeps in a cold metal box with paper sheets.
A friend gets a call the next morning.
A friend goes silent unable to speak.
A friend is left broken.
A teenager lies on a metal table.
unmoving.
preparing for the bodies' final glimpse of sunlight.
preparing to be kissed.
preparing to be cried over.
preparing to be buried.
Family, friends, teachers, classmates all stand dress in black
viewing what was once their child, grandchild, cousin, friend, student, classmate in a wooden box with a plush soft inside.
So that their loved one would be comfortable unlike before.
Everyone is forced to say goodbye.
A town is left heart broken.
All because some people decided that it wouldn't matter if they hurt another human being.
