Disclaimer: I have no idea who owns the movie rights to Donnie
Darko. But if it happens to be you, well, I promise I'm not
making money of you!
Author's Note: Written very long ago, for marysbookshelf at livejournal.
God Is In The Numbers
People don't get killed by pieces of metal that fall randomly out of a clear blue sky. It just isn't possible, once you think about it. You are much more likely to be killed by lightening than you are to die in a plane crash, and it has to be even more unlikely to be hit by wreckage. The odds just make the whole idea practically impossible. Don't they?
People do get stuck by lightning on occasion, though, and statistics are all crap anyway, and there is a giant hole in her house that is demanding that Rose pay attention to reality.
But what her son probably believed, and what she herself is now beginning to understand, is that reality is not always worth paying attention to. She inhales smoke from her cigarette and tries not to think about the giant hole, or the sound of her family sobbing. What is left of her family. But isn't that what she isn't thinking about?
It's a beautiful day outside. The sun is shining, the sky is clear and blue (no jets at all), and the whole neighborhood is out enjoying the weather. Watching her son be taken away. What is left of her son.
A girl waves at her, and Rose tries to remember if she should know who the girl is. She's Donnie's age, and she has a familiar face. Rose thinks that she should remember, but at the moment she can't make herself care much. She waves back. Really, what else is there to do?
Rose believes that God must exist, because jet engines just don't land on people for no reason, and that he must be a bastard, because it really is a lovely day.