Bang

The lights were all on. All the colors of the spectrum, blue, red, yellow, orange, flashing, flashing and strobing, panning around the dance floor. Men, women, and people who were in either both or neither, mingled freely on the dance floor, with wines and drinks in their glasses, held up high, the alcoholic beverages spilling over the sides of the cups as they were tossed and juggled around. The mood was light. The air painted a rainbow color. It was going to be a good time for all involved, as long as they minded the rules of the club.

Then he came in.

And the mood changed faster than anything.

People ran screaming, scattering like lambs crammed together in a barn for slaughter. Friends, family, loved ones, all gone in the blink of an eye. Bright, hopeful people, full of potential, snuffed out in a single day after years of positive living, targeted for the crime of being born different. The panicked, fearful crowd did everything they could to get away, under a fearsome, repeating chorus that echoes to this day.

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. 

Bang. Bang. BANG!

The police arrived and shot the racist with a gun, but it was too late to those people.

But by far the biggest slap to the face to the community was when Congress was assembled off session for the express purpose of doing something about this … and didn’t. Because those men were privileged to be straight and white, for whom this was an oddity and a rare occurrence, not an everyday fear. They could go home and not be afraid of this happening to them.

These people do not have that luxury.

 

In honor of the Orlando Pulse Nightclub Shooting,

One bang for every life lost.

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