Lost in the Headlines

“Mama, I’m scared,” the child whispered, tears glistening in his eyes.

“I know honey, but it is okay. Everything is going to be okay,” his mother softly spoke in his ear. She didn’t know how this had happened and couldn’t fully process the danger they were in. All she knew was that she had to remain calm and strong for her son. She prayed silently for that strength and remained focused on staying hidden. Her heart beat on.

In the darkness, the mother could only slightly make out the man pacing in the front of the lobby of the building. She and her son were crouched underneath a desk towards the back of the lobby and in a small cubicle. Today was the day that her son needed to be picked up early from preschool because he was having a hard time; he was not playing nicely with the other kids. He had told her he didn’t want to go to preschool every morning, that the other kids were mean, but she had no choice because of work. She had to bring him with her to work today because she didn’t get off until 4:00 pm. It was 3:38 pm.

Before this moment, the man walking around the building had ultimately been a quiet and seemingly nice individual. He always turned his work in by the deadline and minded his own business. His behavior today came as a complete shock to the mother. She tried to identify any warning signs in her mind, but she came up empty. She thought to herself, How could he be capable of such a horrible thing? What has compelled him to do this? She couldn’t dwell on why this was happening. All she could focus on was how to make it out still breathing. She always thought her work would be the death of her but not in such a literal sense.

As her mind was running in circles, trying to come up with a viable plan to save her son, most importantly, and if possible, herself, she was struck with the intense sound of a gunshot. Immediately she covered her son’s ears. He was shaking. She put her arms around his tiny body and held tight, not allowing anything to take her focus from him. She buried her head in his neck, unable to look up to see where the man was now. In her mental count, that was the fifth shot fired. Another victim. She hadn’t heard a scream this time, though. Maybe that was a good sign. Ever so slightly quicker, her heart beat on.

Still not able to look up, the mother heard footsteps approaching. Her fear threatened to overwork her heart and make her breathing shallow. She suppressed it to stay as calm as she could for her son. She could still feel his body trembling beneath her. She wished there was something she could do, but she was at a loss. She couldn’t let anything happen to her son. Her mind couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if she didn’t make it. Her husband had left a few years earlier, and her parents were living in a different state. The only “family” they had in town were the kind neighbors in their apartment building. Where would he go? she thought. How would he live? The mother hadn’t drafted a will yet. She was still in her late twenties. She didn’t think that would be something she would have to worry about at this age. She silently prayed that he would be okay.

The footsteps were getting louder and louder until they stopped, seemingly close to her and her son, but she could not check. She couldn’t dare risk it. Then she heard it. The man called her name. Please, God. This cannot be happening. Please. She didn’t dare move a muscle. Her heartbeat sped up to a continual, loud thumping, and she was afraid it would jeopardize her cover. It seemed like several minutes went by, but it was probably only seconds, when she felt the cold metal of the gun’s barrel touch the exposed skin on her arm. Her breath caught in her throat and her entire body tensed. Please, God, no. I can’t die today. Please. Her heart, now palpitating uncontrollably fast, beat on.

The man got close to her ear and snarled, “Get up. Now!” With her mind still trying to comprehend his motive, she shakily unwrapped her arms from her child.

She whispered to him, “Stay where you are. I love you so much.” Fearing those were her last words, she slowly faced her perpetrator.

His face had a menacing glow in the dark cubicle. The mother did not know what to say, so she remained silent. The man looked her up and down. His eyes were glowing intensely. He seemed to be enjoying what he was doing. It was like he had no concern for human life. That realization did nothing to appease the mother’s fear. Still, her heart beat on.

Finally the man spoke, “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“I don’t know why you are doing this.” It was a simple statement and the utter truth. The mother still did not understand why the man was being so cruel. What had possessed him to act in such a horrible way?

“Are you seriously telling me you don’t know?” The man paused, waiting for a response, but all he received was a blank stare from the mother. “This company has been out to get me from the moment I started. It is like I never existed. No one speaks to me, and I have not gotten a raise in the fifteen years I have been here. You are the only one who has ever even smiled at me. This,” he said, gesturing to the darkened office littered with fearful employees and the ones that had already lost their lives, “is the only way for them to notice me.”

In the distance, the sound of sirens echoed across the quiet building. When the man heard it, he lifted the gun to the mother. Her eyes flashed with the understanding of what was about to happen. Her mouth opened with the intention to speak her apology. She wanted to tell the man that he was valued on this earth, that he was not invisible. She wanted to say she understood his feeling of not being appreciated and that she could help him get back on his feet if he would just put the gun down. She really wanted to say she was sorry. No sound was able to escape her lips as the man sent a straight shot right to her chest. The mother fell back to the ground. Her heart stopped.

The child, rocking softly, heard the shot ring out. He was too scared to move. He was too scared to see if his mother was okay. He was too scared to be there for her. That was his biggest regret. The child began crying softly. The man walked towards him, knowing that he was upset. I don’t want this child to feel the pain I have felt. I need to put him out of his misery, the man thought. It was with this logic that the man aimed the gun at the child and pulled the trigger. Another heart stopped beating.

The headlines flashed across TV screens and computer screens and phone screens. Eight are dead, including a young mother and her child. A man has opened fire in his workplace. More facts will be offered as soon as they become available.

The man has been found. He was taken into custody. A name is not known at this time. The victims’ families are grieving. The country offers its support.

Michael David Lutton has been identified as the shooter. He was using a gun that was licensed to him. He is mentally ill. There is talk of new regulations on guns. Controversy over gun control has consumed the country. The families of the victims are grieving. The community has created shrines with flowers and stuffed animals to those who were murdered.

Michael David Lutton has been found guilty. He is facing the death penalty. Controversy over the death penalty has consumed the country. Does Lutton deserve it? The families of the victims are just now starting to move on.

Lutton has just lost his life.

Another heart stopped beating.

The case is closed. The country has moved on.

The man received the attention he wanted. His name was plastered on media all over the country. His actions garnered him notoriety.

Flowers at the shrines wilted. Life went on.