These Broken Wings Won't Fly

I'm tired but my body won't relax. I want to relax but my thoughts won't stop racing. My stomach is jumpy, my nerves are jangly, my head aches, and my eyes burn. I want to curl up into a ball and drift away in sleep to avoid what has happened. I want it not to be true. I want these familiar feeling to go away.

Sunday morning my sister called and told me her husband's parents and grandmother had been killed by his brother. An hour later she called back to say the police had killed the brother.

How do I write about this? I feel I shouldn't because it is private but violence is never private. I feel I shouldn't because it would be disrespectful but to whom?

I wouldn't be writing this at all if an angel hadn't whispered in my ear this morning. I was checking books in at the library and when I flipped open one book there, printed on the library check-out card holder, was my brother-in-law's mother's first and last name. I wanted to cry as I stared at it but at the same time I felt like a warm blanket had been wrapped around me. I hope sometime in the future, after they get past the horror of this, my brother-in-law and his family are wrapped in the same blanket .