Kidnapped/ missing/ killed

I remember looking at the smiling faces as they looked out of posters near the entrance of Wal-mart, and it always scared me, pained me immensely. Some even had last seen dates back from the nineties. I could only think about the pain the families would be going through as they would meticulously take these prints year after year, over and over again and paste them at every possible place. The lack of closure is what drives all the pain, and keeps the hope alive. The living hope often kills more than the death itself.

AP/ Dave Pickoff, file

A sudden rush of emotions engulfed me today as I sat in the bus and read the story of Etan Patz, a six year old who went missing in 1979 as he walked from home to the school bus stand alone for the first time. The search went on for years and years, and is in fact still going on. There have been numerous sightings, including one in Israel, but he was never found. And maybe he will never be found, like so many others like him who were snatched and robbed of their childhood.

I am not a parent, but I feel completely empathy to the parents who lose their young ones, never fully knowing what actually happened to their kids. Many of them would even die without knowing the answers, and what a life would that be. A hope that some miracle would happen someday...

Equally taxing to my senses was the documentary 'The Children of Taliban', and I had to actually stop it for a while to get a good grip on myself. Using the kids as sacrifice, can't still digest the thought...

Makes me think of Pink Floyd. Adults molest, abuse, rape and murder kids, is that even being human? Why can't they just leave the kids alone?