Miguel Angel Honorato: A Short Story

The scorching hot sun was unforgiving and humidity encased the surrounding bystanders including myself. Sweat dripped into places I really didn’t want to think about. My clothes were quickly becoming second skin, clinging in the most uncomfortable way. It also didn’t help that I was dressed from head to toe in sunlight absorbing black clothing. The only comforting thing that kept me going was having the knowledge that I knew everyone who surrounded me was going through the same experience. The smell of newly cut grass was prominent in the air mixed with a hint of body odors among fellow attendants. I shouldn’t be complaining because now I knew there were worst things in the world.

Standing in Edgewood-Greenwood Cemetery was one of those worst

He had left behind a wife and three young children without a father to watch them grow and guide them through life. He had a family who loved him and deeply mourned his unexpected death. Up to this point I knew that the world could be cruel, I just didn’t know how cruel it could be. I had no idea that June 12, 2016 would be a date that had forever marked my family in the most unexpected way. What hurt the most was hearing he’s mother’s cry over her his departure from this world despite the constant murmur from people. In this situation I couldn’t help but remember there is a saying that I had heard a couple of times before. How parents aren’t suppose bury their children first because it’s not natural and going through this experience I can somewhat understand that

It was an experience I definitely don’t want to have again. I was confused and having mixed emotions about everything. The biggest one being sadness because as a family oriented person, when something happens within the family I deeply felt it. I was confused because when events such as the Orlando mass shooting occurred in other places around the nation I would feel sad about it but the only question floating in my head was why. Why did such tragedy have to touch my family? I was angry because I couldn’t understand how a man was able to obtain a weapon of high power. Shouldn’t authorities be on alert when anyone purchases a weapon of a higher caliber then a handgun? In a way I also didn’t feel safe as I did before the Pulse shooting. It was way too close to home for my comfort, I feel like now I have to go around looking over my shoulder and be suspicious everyone around me. I acknowledge that not everyone on the street to out to create another tragedy but that doubt will be always be present in the back of my