mental manifestations

Bad things happen, and people always need to ask why. No one ever has a good answer. Instead, the best people can come up with is just about any external factor they can think of. Everybody wants to put the blame someplace else because they themselves cannot begin to understand what was going on in someone’s mind at the time. People can never truly understand someone on a mental level, which is why they try to rationalize someone’s rationale by pointing the finger at some environmental agent. Sometimes it doesn’t matter why it happened. This freaks people out because when bad things do happen, they don’t know how to respond to it. This leads to correlation implying causation which is not always true.

When I heard about the Virigina Tech massacre, the only thing I could feel was a bad feeling. It’s the kind of feeling you get in your gut when you know something is just not right. I knew people would try to find blame. There always has to be a reason for everything. I would probably guess these people think things happen for a reason. They don’t know how to explain it themselves because they would never be capable of doing something like that.

Strangely, all I could think of was when Anakin Skywalker swayed to the Dark side. No one really questions why he became a Sith Lord and why he terrorized the galaxy. They just accept the fact there is The Force. The tricky part about this is that in the Star Wars universe, it makes sense (i.e. it’s logical) because of that context though it’s really a matter of faith.

People may need a logical response for the Virginia Tech massacre, but logic can also dictate that pointing the blame isn’t going to fix anything. The faithful way of looking at it is to just accept it for what it is. Having no reason sounds like a cop-out, but that is where I stand on matters like these. There are too many factors to consider. There is no way to perfectly predict the future and prevent events like this from happening again (even if you had computating power beyond the capcity of the entire human race or had precognizant oracles). I am also entirely sick of using scapegoats (especially if it’s something stupid). What happened can’t be undone, but there has to be a better way to cope than sticking a finger at someone and waiting for it to be broken.

I don’t remember why it happened in the first place. I can only remember how.

I just know that there was this kid in my home, and we (my family) had to take care of him. He was a stray that we picked up from somewhere. It was obvious he was a troubled child. People treated him badly because he was a problem child. He liked to cause a ruckus because he never got his way. Life has been harsh for him. Life has been wonderful to me, but he would make it harsh all too soon.

Annoyance came very quickly. The child would simply not stay put, sit down, or chill out. He always had to be neverendingly lively. I didn’t know what to do, but on a whim, I asked him if he wanted to use the telescope. It was a telescope our family had received one Christmas and never used. Surprisingly, he agreed. I never thought he was capable of focusing at all.

We went downstairs to the basement that held our telescope. During the walk upstairs, I could hear a car pull up outside. The kid disappeared out of my view with the telescope as I ran out to see who had appeared. Men in suits had pulled up to the drive and approached my back door. Confrontation was not a wise thing to do. They wanted the kid, and I said they could have him. He was inside, and I hit the lawn.

Life is much different than the righteousness in comics and television. When you have a bunch of guys with guns and you are ill-suited and ill-equipped to handle the situation, fear easily weakens you into submission. You cover your head and close your eyes trying to force the reality around you into an illusion.

The lead man verbally notes how willing I was to let them take the kid. I can only hear crashes and yelling from inside the house. My eyes only see blades of green grass and black dirt. The cold metal of the gun is pressing on the back of my head paralyzing my body with fear. One shot is fired. Someone is probably dead. Another shot and then some quiet. I try to come to terms with what just happened, and the results do not sink in until I feel the sharp, burning pain of a bullet lodged in my skull.

I was sure I was dead. The men kicked me over on my side, and I could still see them standing there. Their discussion faded in volume as I became lost in my own consciousness. I expected death to be quick. I didn’t try to move. I only kept thinking about the horror of dying alone in my situation waiting to be taken away. Waiting for death was scary, but accepting it was much terrifying. My entire mind, memories and thoughts, would slip away piece by piece in a slow, agonizing torture.

My body involuntarily begins to whimper and tears escape my eyes. The mafia notice that I’m still alive and kick me around some more. They have the gun pointed at the side of my mouth pressed hard against my teeth. I shut my mouth clenching my jaw as tight as possible. The trigger is pulled, and before I know it, my mouth is filled with little chunks of enamel, and I’m grinding down the rest from clenching my mouth down. I let out a few breaths of air clearing the sharp bits out. And still, my onlookers decide to inflict more pain on me.

I don’t know how much time passed, but it didn’t really matter. They were gone, and somehow I was still alive. I slowly got up, letting each of my legs bear the weight of the pain I received. I trodded towards the back door, up the gray wooden steps, and into the kitchen. The house was generally a mess. Broken objects, dead bodies. I took no detail of it. My slow, zombie limping delivered my body to the telephone where I picked up the receiver and dialed three numbers.

Hearing the voice on the other end felt surreal especially what just happened. It was two worlds that had no connection or relation. Being alive couldn’t be any more shocking than dying. My broken teeth interfered with my tongue like when you get your wisdom teeth out and can’t talk for days. I requested an ambulance at my address, but it came out mostly as gibberish. The woman on the other end understood though. As soon as I heard confirmation, I dropped the phone.

It took me even longer to get back outside. Knowing that relief was on the way, I took my time. Saving myself was no longer imperative to me. There were others who would do that now. I ploughed outside to the sight of police, ambulances, and the fire department. They called out to me in a fuzzy, inaudible haze. I tried to relay everything that occurred, and managed nothing more than a moan. People rushed forward. I rushed down. There was no slow-motion. There was no sound. There was no sight. Just a quick fade to black, and everything was gone.