Last night I got the phone call that you never want to get. Ryan handed me the phone with a very somber expression, and I knew something was terribly wrong. It was my mom, calling to tell me that my cousin had been murdered at 8:30 last night.
Her ex-husband broke into my uncle's house, ordered their 16 year old son to get into the attic, then shot and killed my cousin before turning the gun on himself. Their son managed to get out of the house to a neighbor to call 911, but it was too late. There are other details that are just too gory to share that I can't get out of my mind.
Hearing this news sent waves of shock through me. I wasn't close with my cousin, but I did like her. She was fun to be around, full of energy and fun, with a mouth like a trucker and a heart of gold.
I know it's pointless, but I can't help asking myself why. Why would someone do this? How could you take the life of someone you once loved, someone you had a child with? How could you do something like that to your only child? I know the answer will never come. I can't help thinking about their son, who is now an orphan. This is something he'll have to live with for the rest of his life. Or my aunt and uncle, who have to bury their second child, or her sisters, who have to deal with the fact that they have to bury their little sister.
I know I'll never understand, and it's probably not for me, or anyone else to understand. But it doesn't make it better and it doesn't make it go away. Nothing does.