The grave stones lined up. One by one they told a story. They all shared the same event. They were all shot by a crazed man. It couldn't be expressed in words how much pain their loved ones felt. It shouldn't have happened now. No, it shouldn't ever happen.
A ghostly breeze blew through the graveyard. Some leaves rustled, as they were starting to leave their father tree and onto the ground below. Should anyone have been in the graveyard they would have sworn they heard someone whispering sorry. Though, no one was visible, so it couldn't have been possible.
"I was supposed to inspire good; not madness, not death," The whisper came again as grass parted underneath an invisible force. "Today I found out what I can't do. I can't endure this. Not while people are dying. If I didn't exist."
A new whisper interrupted, "If you didn't exist people would still have nothing to hope for. You are the one that provides the light for people to reach for. Didn't you think there might be some casualties? Things were always going to get worse before they got better."
"What do you expect me to do?"
"Persevere."
Another breeze blew and they were gone. In their wake were the grave stones marked those who have fallen over a senseless incident.
May the victims of the Aurora Theatre Tragedy forever rest in peace.