Last night I watched out the window as the rain fell against the panes. My eyes would blink as the brightness filled the sky before the rumble slowly made its way across the valley. I didn’t hear it though, I didn’t feel it. My mind was fifteen miles away in a cold windowless room. My mind was sitting with a seventeen year old who will not see the rain for many years.
When I find out that a student is arrested, I usually know them and am usually not surprised. Sadly I know that these poor kids live a life of “lack.” They lack good role models at home, they lack someone to teach them values, they lack a way to adjust their moral compass. I am rarely surprised.
When they told me his name, I was surprised. He was a “good” kid. Did well in school, seemed focused and tried to avoid the drama that has become high school. He is seventeen. Last month he walked up to another kid in our city, stood behind him and pulled a gun from his pocket before ending the other child’s life in cold blood.
My mind cannot comprehend this one. How the vision of the quiet student can suddenly be ripped away by the sight of a cold blooded murderer. What happened to make him into this? He wasn’t born to be a stone killer, what drove him to end two lives that day? Not only his victim, but his own life ceased. All of the opportunity, all of the possibility and all of the hope are gone now.
He doesn’t have a window. He cannot even stare out to see what the outside world looks like. I wonder if he even knows that it is raining or can hear the thunder. I wonder if he cares any longer. I wonder who mourns for him. I know that I do, not for the murderer, but the innocent little boy that he once was.