There is a young woman lying in a bed in Ohio. I don’t know her. I have never met her. But I can’t stop thinking about her. Her name is Alix.
I am standing here in my house. Upon my feet. Using my fingers to type this. I don’t know her. But I can’t help but picture her. Lying there. Unable to move. Unable to breathe on her own. Unable to live the life she was given.
Because someone else did not care.
Someone is out there who pulled the trigger. Someone stood by the side of a street, waiting, thoughtlessly, arrogantly, with evil in the place that should have cradled their heart. Someone is walking around. Amongst us. Walking, talking, breathing, all on their own. They have to know. They have to know what they have done. One pulled the trigger. But there are more who know of it. They are all guilty. They are all walking around without a conscience.
But Alix lies there.
They are going about lives that amount to nothing. Because what they did in that one moment totally negates the value of anything else they could ever possibly do.
What should I possibly wish for the darkened soul who pulled that trigger? A life time full of suffering, self torturing, looking in the mirror abhorring the image they can barely raise their own eyes to?
Do I wish for the world to hate them? Hate them to the point of extinction?
Do I wish for horrid suffering that never ends, not here, not anywhere, not in eterminty?
Well if wishes were real I might want to wish that.
But if wishes were real I would wish that this did not ever happen. That the night would have been hushed in the darkness, that people driving home would have arrived safely and that people with evil on their minds and in their hearts would be reprieved and the evil destroyed, not the person. Not the people.
Without wishes to fall back on the most I can do for Alix is hope. And pray. If I feel such anguish for a woman I have never met, what must her family and friends be going through? And how, exactly, are they going to go through and go on?
Will they be filled with hate and anger? How do they not? How do they go on without wanting the revenge or the retribution? I wish I knew answers. I wish for them the strength to get through this with the emotions and power they need. But again, wishes. So I go back to hope.
Everything I have read, seen or heard about Alix fills me with hope. For this world. For the ones who love her. I hope for them the love for Alix is what gets them through. The love they have fills them completely – eradicating any negative within them. Not because they shouldn’t hate, not that they don’t have that right, but because they have seen enough pain, I would hope they don’t have to carry the pain the rest of their lives. If their love grows and multiplies for Alix, for one another, than Alix is still Alix.
I don’t know Alix.
I don’t know her family.
I still don’t know what to think or feel. It’s so easy sitting in my house. Living my life. Typing my blog. It’s easy to have thoughts and opinions. It’s easy to be angry. I don’t really have the right to this. But I imagine, as near to imagining as I can, that right now it’s not easy being Alix, or her family and friends. But it is easier to be Alix and those who love her, than to be the evil that still walks the streets. They can never be different than what they are and what they have done.
Alix is always Alix.
Loving Alix seems to be a good theme for the world. I hope for her all of the love we can send her. All of the positive the world has.
And prayers for her health, her well being, and her spirit.
I don’t know her. But she has deeply affected me. And I don’t want to stop thinking about her.