They were so young, so small, so helpless, so light and little, so innocent and pink and white and blond and blue-eyed and trusting, and so glad to be alive, so loving and so beautiful, so full of delight, so happy, oh so happy.

They were god truly, they were god.

Sunshining.

The twins were four years old and more excited than I’d ever seen them because Halloween was coming and that meant candy and kids and joy, and begging from strangers, and love, and from strangers receiving.

They were enlightened and illumined by love. They made even me love, me who had given up on love, renounced love, surrendered all thought of love ever, ever, who hated love for its heartache, heartbreak, loss and lack.

But I loved then, that day the twins made me love, and I smiled and smiled with love, for love I couldn't stop smiling, and I laughed with love.

Then the neighbor boy told them that men were going to put razor blades and poisons in their treats.

To her mother, Sharon rushed screaming, screaming, screaming, her face twisted in horror, crying inconsolably, crying and crying out.

Why, mommy, why
Why, mommy, why
Why, mommy, why
Why, mommy, why

And then Randy stumbling in, his face a white grimace, frozen, the children in them both, dead forever.

Even now, a year and a half later, my eyes fill with tears and my throat thickens, thinking of it, and my hatred grows bitter and builds, colder, colder, colder, and I want to kill someone, and kill him horribly, torture and mutilate him, horribly, just thinking and remembering what our evil world has done to my children.

I’ll never forget it, ever, and I'll never forgive.