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The back door of the van is opened to reveal a yellow school bus filled with children ready to exit and start their day. I notice for the first time the sound of joy and laughter has filled the silence brought on by my pondering. The man in front of my wearer steps out and immediately opens fire on the bus, riddling it with bullet holes. The sounds of joy and laughter are immediately replaced by screams of terror, pain and confusion. Glass shatters, as the machine gun laughs his staccato laugh of death, a myriad of empty shell casings shower the street. My wearer exits the van, ignoring the bus, he walks toward the school’s front doors. In the frame of the doorway a young mother and daughter stare in disbelief, frozen in shock and horror, unable to move. My wearer raises the AK at them and pulls the trigger. With violent noise erupting all around us, I can still hear the click. The AK is beside himself with rage. The magazine has jammed. I silently scream at the mother and daughter to run, and suddenly they do, the mother covering the daughter’s body with her own, they disappear back inside. The AK is apoplectic, blaming the user, screaming with rage that he has never jammed before.

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