I do not own them.
A/N This is dedicated to the victims of Katrina, and its aftermath. You all may be going though hell now, but to all things must come to an end. Including this tragedy.
I walked though the streets, wondering
"why? Why must there be victims, why must there be perps, why?" But those answers doesn't come to me. I take a deep breath, and go to the nearest bar, and sit down. I order a drink, I don't care what, anything to get my mind off them. The children, the victims. Everybody who ever has gotten raped, and murdered. Tortured. Every one who had to live though hell. I run a hand though my short hair as the bartender hands me a drink. I take a drink, and close my eyes. But then I open them almost automatically. Every time I close my eyes, I see the victims, and I can't stand it. Why do I do it? I have no reason, sure because I wanted to catch my father. But why do i do it. I'm not gonna find him, unless he rapes again. I'm never gonna find him. Elliot does it because he wants to keep the world safe for his children, John does it because he's been a cop for so long, I don't think he knows how to retire. Fin and Cragen, they do it just because they needed a job and because they got transfered. But why do I do it, I don't know. Do I do it because of the victims, maybe. Do I do it to stop the demons that inhabit this rat hole city, I don't know.Why, thats all I ask myself, why? But still, even as I drink my drink, no answers come to me. I sigh, pay the bar tab, then get up and leave. I hail a cab, then go to my apartment. I pay the tab, then get out, and walk to my apartment. I enter my apartment and sigh again. This place has no more answers then the bar I was just in. Well, does any place have answers to why these people do what they do. Why the victims have to endure this, why the perps feel so powerless that they need to commit one of the most horrible crimes against man? But still no answers come to me. I let a tear run down my face as I try to come up with the answers, but still, I come up empty. I start to cry even louder, but even then, no answers come. I wipe m tears, then run out of my apartment. To where, still no answers come to me. I go to the first stairs I find, and run to the roof. Why, I don't know. To get away, to get closer to someone, or something. I don't know. i finally am on the roof, and the cold night breeze is blowing, and as the wind wraps around e, I go to the edge of the roof. and I ask the same questions again. Why do I do this, why is there victims, why is there perps. Why should everyone worry when they walk in an alley. Why should a child have to be raped by her father, then molested in the foster home. Again, no god damn answers. I look down, and now that I think about it, its not that far down. even looks inviting. I close my eyes, and I step on the small curb of the roof, and I think about the victims, and the future ones, about the pain there gonna feel the hardships in there futures. And the bastards that are causing it, maybe there being born right now, at this moment. Its to much, I don't know anything, does anyone? I sigh one last time, close my eyes, then as soon as I step off the roof, the answers come.
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To the Katrina victims
It'll be over, maybe not next month, maybe not even in the next ten years, but it will be over. And you all have to hold on until then.