It’s Your Fault for Dying

When I said to a friend, “twenty-six people died” and the response was “oh, a mass shooting,” I was shocked by the casual expectancy of those words. The simple acceptance of it as part of our daily lives. The lack of surprise when someone rampages death and chaos in our streets.

I remember when it was rare. When it was shocking.

When it had meaning and weight and… horror.

And yet, now it is as normal as the sunrise and as unnoticed.

Worse, mass shootings stay in the news cycle and garner far more attention when the victims have no connection to domestic violence. When the shooter is not killing people to get back at the wife who escaped him and the children she was trying to protect.

When the deaths are random, the vultures will circle until the bones are picked clean.

When a man decides he must beat and abuse his wife and children and decides they must die rather than escape him… we sweep it under the rug. We blame the women in his life for not stepping forward to proclaim the danger he represents.

We blame the victims.

And then the politicians go on parade to soft-peddle the NRA party line. To blame mental disorders and yet refuse to actually do anything about it. To shy away from regulation and gun laws until “we know all the answers and allow the investigation to run its course”. Over and over again.

It’s no different than the man who beat his wife to death claiming he didn’t mean to kill her. He only meant to beat her, it was her fault for dying while he did it.

It is your fault for dying when you get shot.

It is your fault for being in a place where guns are being fired.

It is your fault when madmen stockpile guns and decide your life is theirs to take.

Because it isn’t the NRA, or the gun manufacturers, or the gun sellers, or the politicians, or the law enforcement… no, it’s your fault because you are the victim.

They only meant to shoot you. It’s your fault for dying.