đŸ”„ REDACTED FILE: Solace in the Ashes

Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.

[REDACTED: ORIGIN]

Date: July 26, 1764

Time: Unknown

Nine children. One teacher. Lenape warriors. Colonial silence.

No sirens. No vigils. No headlines. Just blood in the soil and silence in the archive.

[REDACTED: COLUMBINE]

Date: April 20, 1999

Time: 11:19 AM

Thirteen dead. Twenty-four wounded.

“I saw my best friend die under the table. I still hear her whispering.” —Survivor, age 17

The shooters filmed their plans. The survivors still replay their trauma.

[REDACTED: SANDY HOOK]

Date: December 14, 2012

Time: 9:35 AM

Twenty children. Six adults.

“I packed her lunch that morning. Strawberry yogurt. She never opened it.” —Mother of victim, age 6

The classroom was decorated for winter. The blood soaked through the snowflakes.

[REDACTED: PARKLAND]

Date: February 14, 2018

Time: 2:21 PM

Seventeen killed. Seventeen wounded.

“I texted my mom ‘I love you’ from inside a closet. I didn’t think she’d ever read it.” —Survivor, age 16

The fire alarm was pulled to lure them out. The bullets met them in the hallway.

[REDACTED: UVALDE]

Date: May 24, 2022

Time: 11:33 AM

Nineteen children. Two teachers.

“I smeared blood on myself and pretended to be dead. I was nine.” —Survivor, age 9

The police waited. The children didn’t have time.

[REDACTED: MINNEAPOLIS CATHOLIC SCHOOL]

Date: August 27, 2025

Time: 10:04 AM

Two children. Seventeen injured.

“My son still sleeps with the lights on. He says the dark sounds like gunfire.” —Parent of survivor, age 7

The shooter fired through stained glass. The Mass turned into a massacre.

The crucifix watched. The altar bled. God was silent.

No miracle. No shield. Just blood on the hymnals and silence in the sanctuary.

[REDACTED: FINAL GLITCH]

Total lives lost to school shootings in the United States


1,000+

1,300+

1,500+

1,670 confirmed

1,670 souls

1,670 children, teachers, staff, dreams

CAN’T BREATHE

[REDACTED: CLOSING DISPATCH]

This file is not a plea. It is a wound.

It is not a solution. It is a scream.

It is not a post. It is a grave marker.

Make them feel. Make them hurt. Make them listen. Make them remember.

Filed from Salem, Oregon · Encryption Level: Severe

← Return to Vault