They keep asking "why?" like it's a mystery, like it fell out of the sky one day with no warning... Like the answer isn't written in the cracks of the walls, in the counselors' waiting lists, in the way everyone looks away until the moment looking away becomes impossible.
How many kids have to fill graves before someone admits this isn't a "tragedy" anymore, it's a pattern?
They lower the flags, we say the same phrases, we promise the same prayers, and then we go right back to normal; because normal is convenient. Because normal doesn't ask us to sit with the fact that we built a system where pain has nowhere to go except outward. Because normal doesn't ask us to notice the kid who’s been screaming without sound for years.
And don't tell me "God has a plan" as if it matters, as if we don't use religion as a way to convince ourselves we have control over our lifes. If God were real, if God were watching, there's no universe where this is acceptable collateral. No divine lesson that requires hiding in lockers and classrooms, and children who are never going to make it back home. If there is a God who allows this, then either he's absent or we are; because someone, somewhere, chose comfort over responsibility again.
What's worse is that nobody cares about the perpetrator until they snap. Before that, they're invisible. Annoying. Weird. Difficult. A problem to be managed, not a person to be helped... We don't fund care, we don't listen, we don't intervene, we just wait. And then when the breaking point comes, we act shocked, as if neglect doesn't have consequences.
This isn't about excusing anything. It's about refusing to lie to ourselves. You don't get to ignore people their whole lives and then pretend the explosion came from nowhere, pretend that all of their rage and sorrow came from thin air. You don't get to mourn loudly and care quietly.
The most horrifying part isn't that this keeps happening, it's that we've learned how to live with it. We've decided this is the cost of doing nothing, and we pay it with other people's children, siblings, parents. Nobody is phased anymore seeing their TVs and phones flash with "Breaking news! Another shooting!"
So yeah, how many graves? How many desks left empty? How many names read aloud before "never again" means literally anything at all?