Trevor has never been good at goodbyes. His salutations always seemed forced and sometimes misconstrued as snotty. Trevor never wanted people to think that of him but on that faithful day, the day in which light turned into darkness for him – he no longer cared.

Trevor had a family once. A beautiful wife he had met in college, Kari was her name. They lived that cliché dream that Mr. and Mrs. Cleaver portrayed on television all those years ago. Nothing ever handed to them, they earned absolutely everything they had – even their beautiful daughter, Kayla. Yep, Trevor had everything he had ever wanted and on the day that it would all be complete – on the day he was getting promoted to partner at his firm, he heard the news through the local news station.

Ironic, he thought, hearing the news on the channel in which his esteemed bride worked. Kari was a journalist for the news station – a very progressive local news channel. Kari’s office wanted to thank her for all of her contributions through the years so sent her on an all-expense paid vacation to Tunisia. Trevor couldn’t go due to his promotion, Kari insisted she should just not go until he is able to but Trevor was a charmer and assured her he would be fine. They both had decided to let Kayla go to, it’d be good for her young soul. The last time Trevor seen his girls was the airport, their innocent blue eyes locked tight into his heart forever.

Trevor was speaking to his co-workers, receiving handshakes and back pats for his promotion. The overhead television vibrated in his ears like a grenade had gone off nearby. A terrorist attack on a resort in Tunisia, zero survivors – the resort, the very same his family was in. His phone had been on vibrate, but the last message on his voicemail was his girls confessing their undying love for him and then – a gunshot. It keeps Trevor up at night, haunting his dreams like a black plague, some terrible nightmare. No, a nightmare would be paradise as opposed to reality.

Trevor opens his pill bottle and downs 3, chased simultaneously with liquor. He’s sitting on a park bench overlooking a playground. Mothers and fathers a like watching as their precious children frolic in this monstrosity of chains, cheap plastic crap swings and disease filled wooden tunnels. Trevor remembered what he was there for. To kill the monsters, to end the demons whispering in his ears and in his dreams. Finally he’ll be able to close his eyes at night – finally, he will be with his family again. God how he misses them. Trevor stands up and empties one clip from a fully automatic rifle onto the playground, taking down anything that moves. The screams – god, the screams can be heard from a mile away. Trevor turns the gun onto himself, closes his eyes, one tear and pulls the trigger.