Death is so easy to ignore when it's not directly in front of you.

Sometime this afternoon, the world lost a good person. And in the worst kind of way, and all I can really think is how completely unreal it all seems.

I don't know. Shouldn't there be some mass of words? Society tells us that death should dictate some worldy revelation for us all - and yet, I have got hardly any words beyond expressions of utter disbelief left to spend. This topic is so painfully closed - there is nothing that can be undone or changed, no point to argue. Ashley DeWitte is dead. What more can I possibly say? Naturally, I'm shook up. Unhappy. Fuck, I'm miserable - I can hardly imagine a sweeter girl. And somehow she is gone.

Her ex-boyfriend shot her in the chest. Five times. And then himself. That's all I know. And why? No words on the dispute, they make no difference - what is done is done, and what is done is clearly the worst kind of wrong. No justice can be served, because the prick is dead, too. I can't find the will to cry. I want to, but - nothing.

And I suppose it doesn't matter. She will speed her way to heaven, or valhalla, what have you, and there is nothing anybody here can do or say about it other than state the obvious.

I went to the memorial outside her house. It didn't look like the house of a dead person, it looked like a house. And on the sidewalk there were candles, and pictures of a clearly living girl clearly smiling at the camera, clearly the epitome of beauty in the flickering light. There were normal cars parked on the street, and living people in small crowds in the street. There were police officers, clearly alive, and a news van with a camera man - definitely alive.

But Ashley was nowhere to be found. And she never will be again, and Goddamnit, that makes me miserable. It's not like I even knew her that well, but damnit, she was a wonderful person.

And now she is gone. God bless her. <3