Ten thousand tiny white crosses fill the field tonight. Each one of them, a memory. A person.

I sit there, dully, hearing the speeches given by the grieving family members. Mothers, wives, husbands, Fathers, best friends, siblings. None of it mattered. Just idolized versions of the persons dead.

But I sit through it. I'm rather proud of myself. I shift in my seat, I cry on cue. I wait for the moments to come in. They hand over the mic to me. I make a speech.

"These men and women fell. They fell for us. I don't..... " my voice cracks as I wipe away tears, "I don't have the words to express how much this affects us, as individuals, as a community."

Ten thousand people. Ten thousand tiny white crosses.

"...But we will prevail," I speak into the microphone, wiping away tears on my finely pressed blazer. "There are dark times ahead. Together, we can rebuild. We can fight. The people behind this will be brought to justice."

The crowd erupts in applause. I smile through my tears and step off the make shift stage.

Ten thousand tiny white crosses glittering in the sunlight.

I walk away.

"Ma'am?" An intern comes up to me. She's shy. But smart. I like that. She continued, "Do you want me to call your car?"

"Yes, Michelle. Be sure to insist I not be open for questions. Ensure the public that I am working to solve the matter, but am distraught."

"Yes, Ma'am." She scuttled off. A good girl.

As I climb into my car, I smile. Ten thousand. Well, that's a start. They worship me. They idolize me. I am a Goddess.

As the car drives away, banners fly. I plan to start my presidential campaign tomorrow. Peace, I say. But peace can't exist without exterminating the cause of grief.

Ten thousand tiny white crosses.

If only there could be more.