It rattled me pretty hard. I guess maybe because it reminded me of when Lauren died. Pretty blonde girl, everything going for her, no enemies in the world suddenly is ripped off this earth to the jeering of crunching metal and shattered glass.
And everybody is left in a daze, their eyes staring through their surroundings, looking for explanations. We're too comfortable with our beliefs in justice in this world. We're too accustomed to notions of karma and just desserts and retribution.
But then something like this happens, and we're all left staring like zombies, chilled through our skin from the feeling that Death himself brushed against us as he left, carrying Brittany's soul off to Judgment, and in his wake we shamble about looking for some rhyme or reason as to why. Why. I guess the main problem is that there is no "why," there just "is." She died. Despite her youth and her good looks and her virtuous nature and her kindess and courtesy and child and husband and loving family, she died. And in that moment, we spectators to this supernatural and confusing spectacle are left realizing how very little we control in our lives, and how mortal we really are.
And then after we have come to grips with the idea that the worst thing that could happen to a friend did, in fact, happen, all we can do is feel the heavy cloak of sadness that drapes our head and shoulders after someone so deserving of so much better was taken from us. So we send up our prayers and lamentations, despite our anger and sadness, and disagreement with the choice to take someone so undeserving of an early death, and press onward in spite of just how awful and unfair it all is. What else can we do?
