Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Murder-Suicide At Stevenson Ranch


I was dressing in the locker room at L.A. Fitness in Stevenson Ranch when I looked up to see on the television they had a murder-suicide. Beneath it, a chyron that read “Stevenson Ranch Murder Suicide.” Looking closer, it was a live broadcast from just outside the walls of the gym. Within the shopping plaza there was an army of news trucks reporting on a man who’d killed his wife and then himself the night before.
I knew something was off when I first entered the plaza. A convoy of trucks parked outside. I thought it was a movie being shot and thought nothing of it. The first news was watching it in the locker. One other guy was there when I shouted
“Hey, we’re on t.v.”
The guy next to me turned. Confused as to what I was saying.
“Look, we’re on t.v.”

He turned and watched it for a while. Shrugged. He certainly didn’t seem as shocked as I was. It was a LIVE feed of a news van outside of where we were pointed directly at the parking lot. In fact, you could see my car in the shot. This was going out to countless thousands. Untold millions online. Here I was, in the microscope of national news. And all the dude I told this to could do was shrug. I guess he’s seen it all. This was surreal.

To me, death is always bizarre. Imagine leaving your home one day and all the stuff you left at home is now embalmed in history once your life ends. What could people surmise from your life based on how you left it. I’d be ashamed. As I live alone, most likely my death would be lost on say…my landlord who would most likely keep harassing me for rent until they had to evict…a dead man. That is really weird to me.

I don’t like death so close to me. I know it happens. But a lot of people don’t really take into account what their actions do, and how reaching they become. Maybe there are people who never have to consider this. Someone died last night, and that’s all that is going to be written about that person. So many unresolved things. So many hanging dreams ended…just like that. Sorry for the grim blog.

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