He didn’t just take everyone else’s life that day, he took his own as well.
He held the power to destroy, he had the ability to make a mark. A mark on the calendar for everyone to commemorate that day for the innocent deaths of the lives of hundreds.
Was he blinded by the greed or the power? Did he even know how much control he had in his hands?
He really thought that with that single blow, a difference could be made. A difference that would help his family and country.
But he was cold, his heart had lost all sensitivity to what used to make him feel warm. It didn’t react to pain or loss anymore. It just turned cold.
He was empowered with the control of the lives he had over the innocent people. He was invincible, he was a god of the situation. He was the selfish that society abhor. His children suffer, not because of who they were stereotyped to be, but of his action.
A cold heart that made a decision to take lives and his own.