Dear Mr. Paddock,
I do not know you any more than another person that I would walk by on a busy sidewalk in the city, but I hate you.
I hate how you have caused me, as a mother, to fear about what type of world I am trying to raise my son in. No, you are not the only problem by far, but you have done nothing but add to the problem.
I fear if you will start a chain and make the world a more dangerous place for my son. I did not expect you to think about the thousands of lives that you would effect by your decision, but as I sit here I just wish I understood.
I fear watching CNN, MSN, my Facebook feed, and all of my social media, seeing the names and pictures of the innocent people who were just trying to let loose on a Sunday night enjoying something (Country Music) that has brought so people together; something that I tie to so many memories in my childhood and life.
I cry for the thousands of family that had to wait long hours to find out about their loved ones. Waiting for their beloved fathers, mothers, sisters, bothers, children, and friends to contact them and tell them that they made it. They are okay.
I cry even more for families that did not get that call.
I lay in bed, anxious, imagining being in that position being the one running for cover, hiding behind cars, or hovering over my loved ones trying to protect them. Even worse I imagine my son or family members being there and waiting for that message.
I cannot imagine how hot the air would have become due to the panicked breathing and perspiration.
I think about the officers who knew that someone was shooting from a higher level of a hotel, knowing that they need run straight into the gunfire.
I think about the anxiety that the hospitals were going through, trying to help the overwhelming amount of people that were non-stop coming through the doors.
I hate to give you credit because that is probably what you wanted, but this is your fault. Your thought out plan where you decided you wanted to play God and take the lives of so many people into your own hands.
You were sick psychologically, and the blood covering the Las Vegas Strip shows that.
I am sick to my stomach reading articles and seeing videos of the 59 music fans that went to a concert and never made it home.
I am, however, happy that out of all the publicity I have seen, they have left you out of it as much as they possible could.
I think about your family members, and how you decided to change their lives without permission, again playing God. Embarrassed and in shock, they do not understand like the rest of us.
I think about your mother and wonder if she felt the same way that I do about my son. Did she worry about the dangers and the evil that resides in people when she was raising you? Did she hold you when you were hurt or upset, trying everything in her power to make you feel better and to stop the hurt.
I think about your brother. Did he ever protect you from someone bullying you? Again, someone you loved trying to protect you.
I am not mad at your mother and brother as they had nothing to do with your actions. I just have a hard time understanding how you can be so ungrateful to your family. Ungrateful for the people that were there through every memory you had both good and bad.
I wonder about your father, Benjamin, who was a diagnosed psychopath. Did his life and past influence your actions or were you just trying to go down in history remembered for something.
I think about how you felt.
I think about how low you had to feel to carry out an action. How you could stand there in your hotel room, unloading your gun hearing country music and screaming from the people below knowing that people were dying in cold blood?
You were sick psychologically.
I do not condone suicide, but if you were that upset with your life, why couldn’t you just do as you did anyways, and killed yourself. You could have left the 59 people who were murdered alone, able to live their lives.
I am angry.
I am upset.
I am anxious.
I am left to try to understand something that I will never have an answer for.
I am left to sit here tonight and hold my son and loved ones a little closer. You have reminded me that life can change at any moment and not to take anything for granted.
I am not going to let you define this world as evil.
I will raise my son to love genuinely, and to treat life with the absolute utmost respect.
I am sorry you were sick and I that you did not seek or get any help, but more importantly I am sorry that I do not think I can forgive you right now.
Sincerely,
A Scared Mother Who Still has Hope
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