Heroes Exist (I'm Just Not One of Them)
ONE
Some genius decided that a school would make an excellent bomb target.
Neil and I were there with his son for a mini-art show. Mattie was adorable. Huge, bright blue eyes and gold blond hair and so so smart and sweet and God damn it…
So we were inside when the bombs went off. (Us and forty three others)
We were separated in the chaos.
Neil ended up getting dragged out by Mattie’s homeroom teacher, Ms. Leighton.
God damn it, if the kid had just held in his piss for five fucking minutes. Shouldn’t have let him have the soda earlier.
But of course I went with Mattie, I’m his godfather. Neil had to “talk” with Ms. Leighton. In private.
I wonder if Neil's even talked to her since?
God have you ever been in a building as it crumbled down around you? Dust and smoke and fire filled the halls. Hand drawn pictures of cats and houses and families and flowers curled up and burned to ash.
I grabbed Mattie by the arm and ran. I should have carried him. I would have gone quicker too, but no. I made him run. Why did I think a terrified six year old could keep pace with an adult scared shitless?
He couldn’t. A support beam fell, taking the roof with it, and Mattie was trapped and crushed. By my stupidity.
If I’d just carried him, if I’d just told him to go before we left the house, if I’d just been smarter, faster, anything, he’d be alive right now, and that’s my burden to bear.
If you watch the news, they’ll say that I risked life and limb to save the lives of fourteen children and one young woman.
That’s really not true. Don’t listen to them. I’m not a hero, and people should stop pretending I am.
Sure, the press talks about the dead – twenty two children and six adults dead – but it’s not the same. They focus on the wrong things.
I watched a girl no more than five get crushed. Her pretty pink sun dress was streaked with blood. And I left her there. She was alive, but God damn it, I kept running. What kind of person am I? I left a little girl to die.
Her name was Kelsey Branson.
How do I know this? Like I said, even though the news focuses on the wrong thing most of the time, they do sometimes get it right and pay their respects to the dead. There were plenty of pictures of the children, forever smiling when their last moments were spent sobbing, forever testaments to a life ended far too soon.
Oh, and the letters. Can’t forget those. Somehow people found my address. It’s no big deal because it was going to happen sooner or later. Neil and Benni have a bigger problem with it than I do.
Kelsey Branson, Adam Miller, Christine Nichols, Peter Petrakos, Marceline Johnson, Quinn McLaren, Nevaeh Hollis, Beau Kingsley, Kennedy Kingsley, Margot Rivers, Selah Brown, Bethany Ingram, Gio Cardiavelli, Stanley Howser, Jeremy Forsyth, Alix Grey, Lisa Grey, Gregory Durson, Emilee Wise, Drusilla Bachelder, Susan Franklin, Brian Cooper, Howard Roberts, Maxwell Harrison, Samuel Martinez, Liam Turner, Daniela Barnaby.
Twenty two children and six adults.
Kids were orphaned, dropped into the foster system by some asshole with a bomb fetish. Parents had to bury their children.
Neil had to bury his son.
I didn’t go to the funeral. I couldn’t bring myself to go. Could you fucking stop looking at me like that, so disappointed? I told you before, I am not a hero. I’m a coward.
Couldn’t bear to watch a little body be lowered into the ground, especially considering what I’d done.
Fuck.
Oh fucking fuck, I thought I’d finally stopped crying about this. Fuck.
Neil and I were there with his son for a mini-art show. Mattie was adorable. Huge, bright blue eyes and gold blond hair and so so smart and sweet and God damn it…
So we were inside when the bombs went off. (Us and forty three others)
We were separated in the chaos.
Neil ended up getting dragged out by Mattie’s homeroom teacher, Ms. Leighton.
God damn it, if the kid had just held in his piss for five fucking minutes. Shouldn’t have let him have the soda earlier.
But of course I went with Mattie, I’m his godfather. Neil had to “talk” with Ms. Leighton. In private.
I wonder if Neil's even talked to her since?
God have you ever been in a building as it crumbled down around you? Dust and smoke and fire filled the halls. Hand drawn pictures of cats and houses and families and flowers curled up and burned to ash.
I grabbed Mattie by the arm and ran. I should have carried him. I would have gone quicker too, but no. I made him run. Why did I think a terrified six year old could keep pace with an adult scared shitless?
He couldn’t. A support beam fell, taking the roof with it, and Mattie was trapped and crushed. By my stupidity.
If I’d just carried him, if I’d just told him to go before we left the house, if I’d just been smarter, faster, anything, he’d be alive right now, and that’s my burden to bear.
If you watch the news, they’ll say that I risked life and limb to save the lives of fourteen children and one young woman.
That’s really not true. Don’t listen to them. I’m not a hero, and people should stop pretending I am.
Sure, the press talks about the dead – twenty two children and six adults dead – but it’s not the same. They focus on the wrong things.
I watched a girl no more than five get crushed. Her pretty pink sun dress was streaked with blood. And I left her there. She was alive, but God damn it, I kept running. What kind of person am I? I left a little girl to die.
Her name was Kelsey Branson.
How do I know this? Like I said, even though the news focuses on the wrong thing most of the time, they do sometimes get it right and pay their respects to the dead. There were plenty of pictures of the children, forever smiling when their last moments were spent sobbing, forever testaments to a life ended far too soon.
Oh, and the letters. Can’t forget those. Somehow people found my address. It’s no big deal because it was going to happen sooner or later. Neil and Benni have a bigger problem with it than I do.
Kelsey Branson, Adam Miller, Christine Nichols, Peter Petrakos, Marceline Johnson, Quinn McLaren, Nevaeh Hollis, Beau Kingsley, Kennedy Kingsley, Margot Rivers, Selah Brown, Bethany Ingram, Gio Cardiavelli, Stanley Howser, Jeremy Forsyth, Alix Grey, Lisa Grey, Gregory Durson, Emilee Wise, Drusilla Bachelder, Susan Franklin, Brian Cooper, Howard Roberts, Maxwell Harrison, Samuel Martinez, Liam Turner, Daniela Barnaby.
Twenty two children and six adults.
Kids were orphaned, dropped into the foster system by some asshole with a bomb fetish. Parents had to bury their children.
Neil had to bury his son.
I didn’t go to the funeral. I couldn’t bring myself to go. Could you fucking stop looking at me like that, so disappointed? I told you before, I am not a hero. I’m a coward.
Couldn’t bear to watch a little body be lowered into the ground, especially considering what I’d done.
Fuck.
Oh fucking fuck, I thought I’d finally stopped crying about this. Fuck.