Monday, March 2, 2020

Justice isn't enough.

Justice would be for her killer to suffer exactly what she went through, while she gets her life back -- the clock winds back to August 2011, our collective memories erased of this last two years and all the horror and grief and fear, and the shattered, stupid wishes that she was still alive somehow. Maybe justice would be for people who attack  her family and friends, and make our suffering worse; and for those who pretend they know more than they do, who exaggerate their role in our lives to get attention for themselves, to  make themselves feel important-- that they should go through the same thing they've inflicted on others, and we get our  lives reset to before any of this happened. Her with us and whole, us never knowing what we do now about human nature.

Maybe real justice would be all of us getting our wish to be there that night and protect her. Because that's what haunts everyone who knew her, and don't mistake that, every real friend, everyone in both families, her father, her fiance--we all want to have been there to stop her from stepping out that door. Everyone but the person who actually showed up.

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