Image taken here.
It
was with a peculiar, and perhaps less than noble, fixation that I read about your
crime. A crime which was extraordinarily morbid, and sensational. And
I gathered the following details: You were thirteen years old. You stole a .22
caliber pistol. You wrote a suicide letter; short, but it got the message
across. You went to SM City Mall, Pampanga. You met your seventeen
year old lover in front of the Astrovision store in the mall's Building 3.
You shot him in the head. The bullet lodged in his brain and left
him brain dead. You then turned the gun on yourself and pulled the
trigger.
And
then there are the things I imagine: How you walked up to him, angry and
hurt; how you made a speech, hoping that he would understand; how he rejected
you; how you pulled a gun, and felt some small bit of satisfaction at the fear
that suddenly came into your lover's eyes; how you shot him in the head; how he
bled, and bled, and kept on bleeding; how you realized that he was going to die
for real; how you kept on repeating that you didn't mean for any of this to
happen; how you realized what a lie those words were; how, in your heart, you
knew you meant it; how you didn't want to die; how you felt you had you no
choice; how cold, metallic and uncaring the gun felt in your hand; how thoughts
of dying felt better than the idea that you would go through life without him;
how you pointed the gun at yourself and pulled the trigger; how you didn't
realize that there would be so much blood. That you would have so much blood.
As if the flow of blood would never end. A river of blood.
How
you lay on the floor gasping, waiting for the darkness to consume you. Hoping
that in death you could be together. Frightened of the possibility that you
won't.
Then
a moment of silence. Perhaps stubborn righteousness. Perhaps regret.
How
you died.
And
then a call to two sets of parents unmindful of the strange, compelling drama
that has just claimed the lives of their two sons. How they did not
understand. How they wailed and cried and mourned. How they railed
against anyone they could blame: the mall security, God, the world. How
they wanted to have their sons back, questioning how the world can
continue going on. How the world remains unchanged and unconcerned.
How
they blamed themselves. How they blamed themselves. How they blamed themselves.
How
their lives are never the same again. How they died, in their own way.
How there are more victims to this story than those dead.
News
about the shooting can be found here.
Would be interesting to understand what goes through these peoples heads. Eerie! One way to look at it.
ReplyDeleteI might guess the opposite, in the sense that he wouldn't have thought those things, that someone capable of going through with it might be incapable of feeling those kinds of emotions and thinking those thoughts. That someone this selfish is so consumed by their own drama, they are oblivious to the world and the people around them.
a rather poignant, well-written post.. your words reverberate in my ears and echoes through to my head..
ReplyDelete"How their lives are never the same again. How they died, in their own way. How there are more victims to this story than those dead."
it's as if the last line is written in ALL CAPS and a bold, red font..
It's pretty messed up that this would happen, and quite sad how often it does. The gun may have been cold and uncaring but sometimes it seems the world is too.
ReplyDeleteQuite sad and alarming at the same time. Last week, there were nine suicides in one day. Hope we won't surpass Japan and Korea in numbers.
ReplyDeleteThis post is a little surprising, Fickle. You know I'll always love your work. This just has so much heart, something that your brainy posts don't betray too much of. :)
ReplyDeleteUnlike Citybuoy, I found this post a little too much heart. I'm sorry, but I never found anything romantic at all with the cold-blooded murder and suicide, with how the gun was easily accessible, and how lax the mall inspection was, which allowed him to bring in the gun unnoticed.
ReplyDelete(Hahaha, I think I have the makings of a cold-blooded lawyer. JOKE!)
"How their lives are never the same again. How they died, in their own way. How there are more victims to this story than those dead."
ReplyDeleteprofound words!
the three "How they blamed themselves." I am a mother. My daughter died alone, and because of her own addictions. How I blame myself. How I blame myself.
ReplyDeleteAnd the trouble with surviving is that I die at some point every year, no matter HOW my mind knows better. You captured this chillingly, compellingly, compassionately.
Great blog post! Thanks for sharing the article link. It's indeed a very sad story. However, one can never know what's inside the mind of a suicidal person. That happens everywhere, most especially here, during winter season. No matter what gender, it happens. Not just love drama, but most especially financial crisis.
ReplyDeleteA Ladybug's Life
Sonnia
Very sad.
ReplyDeleteA most sad incident for all families and friends :-).
ReplyDeleteAn act of violence that reverberates down empty family halls....
ReplyDeleteso sad.
It's rather of whys that keep on bugging my head. Love or mere obsession, why'd you end up that way? Why'd you pull the trigger when you can pull and push him literally? Why? And why? And the idea came across that even though answers came my whys. Nothing will ever change.
ReplyDeleteSad indeed.
may they rest in peace
ReplyDeleteThe last statement really created a huge "oomph" that ended the post wonderfully!
ReplyDeletewhen i studied durkheim in college, he said suicide has its role in the society. pretty morbid, yes.
ReplyDeleteit was terrifying - the news, it reminded me that i am loved by a lot of people and that i need to show that love to others as well perhaps to prevent such things from happening.
frighteningly well written.
ReplyDeleteReading this post made me think about how weak we are with regards to our own emotions and feelings. For as much as we try to be in control of ourselves, we all have a breaking point,hopefully for most of us it's just an endless *crying/screaming/punching the wall in our own privacy* moment; unfortunately sometimes, like in this case, our breaking point takes us to act in ways we thought we were never capable of... I'm not defending the boy who took the gun,or any other murderer, I'm just reflecting about human behaviour in general, and how I reckon we "pretend" to be in control of ourselves and our actions, but we never know when we might just lose control and act in ways we thought ourselves incapable of. I think most of us have done something (talking on a small scale, not murder!!:P)we thought we could/would never do.
ReplyDeleteIncredibly sad, but very well written.
ReplyDeleteMy hair strands were standing the whole time. I also would like to thank Adele, who happened to be singing Turning Tables at the backdrop while I was reading this amazing post. Amazing. Amazing experience.
ReplyDeleteI found this post very disturbing and intriguing at the same time. It's very well written and poignant, but it still gives me the chills!
ReplyDeleteTeens at this stage of their lives are very sensitive, especially if they are not properly guided by their parents, mentors and environment. Partly, we're all to blame for fancying violent entertainment in TV and in the movies. I was young too, I was also violent, I was also angry. But I was lucky that my parents were always there for me. My barkada was also like an extension of my family, in which they provided support in times of trouble and despair with school and everything else happening.
ReplyDeleteIn the end they will just be remembered as victims of the world's negligence.
just plain tragic. Great post.
ReplyDelete