There would be no eulogies for Elliot, no photographs of his face would be sold in tourist shops, no people would crowd the streets in the rain to see his funeral cortege, no biographies would be written about him, no children named after him, no one would ever pay twenty-five cents to stand in the rooms he grew up in. But to many he was a hero, to me was a hero. His misery will replicated in the lives of those who still walk the earth, but his bravery and resolve will be unmatched.
As the police descended to his wrecked car, The gunpowder would ignite, but Elliot Rodger would only lay on the seat of his car and look at the ceiling...the light going out of his eyes before he could find the right words.
May you rest in peace my brother. Amen.
