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The past couple of days have been quite difficult for me mentally. I'm hoping that writing will help me come to terms with what I saw so I can enjoy my trip again.

Brad, Meesh, and I went to the Tate Modern Museum of Art last friday in high spirits. We decided to eat lunch at the Cafe inside of the museum. I ordered salmon, something I couldn't afford but felt oddly deserving of. Michelle pulled up the article about the Batman shootings on her phone before our lunch arrived, and after I had perused it I felt ill, completely sickened and upset by what I had read. When the salmon arrived, I couldn't touch it. My appetite was gone, and I didn't enjoy the museum at all. We walked quickly through all of the exhibitions from the Surrealists to the Minimalists. Every piece seemed to focus on the subconscious and death, which wasn't something I was keen on after reading such a horrific article. I rushed Brad and Meesh through the exhibit because we had to meet Rosie to catch a train to the English seaside later in the evening. I was thankful to leave. The two unscathed art gurus were left wanting to visit the Damien Hirst exhibition, which was 15 pounds more than I could afford to spend without breaking my budget, and out of the question for our time frame. We decided they could go back later in the week if they felt so obliged.

We had a lovely weekend at the seaside playing scrabble, cooking elaborate meals, and drinking merlot. It was so lovely and English - I couldn't have asked for more.

On Brad's last day in London we woke up late after the all-nighter and he expressed a great desire to go back to the Tate to see the exhibition he had missed out on before. I declined and told him I'd meet up with him later. Michelle decided she wanted to join him, so the two somehow convinced me to come along, even though I had no desire to go back. I begrudgingly trekked along the Thames with them and we met Rosie outside the museum, which was almost closed. Brad and Meesh decided to try it anyways, so they went in while Rosie and I sat on a concrete bench and chatted while we waited. We eventually decided to move onto the lawn because of the blaring sun, which was packed with picnickers and exhausted museum goers. Rosie and I talked for all of three minutes when we heard a loud sound, like four basketballs hitting the concrete simultaneously. We looked between an alcove of small trees separating the lawn from the concrete sidewalk outside the museum at a man who began to yell, "What's happened! What's happening! Oh my God, call the police." I stood up, heart pounding, looking for the cause of his hysterics. The body of a man, clad in a nice suit and tie, was splayed out, feet up on the ground. It took me a bit of time to realize he had fallen or jumped from the top of the museum. People stood up from their comfortable lawn seats and looked. A woman began to whimper. Some were completely oblivious. A tour group of German kids stood around laughing with no idea that a dead man was nearly 50 feet away with his brains all over the concrete. Those who saw did nothing. Everything was surprisingly still. A woman began to photograph him, thinking perhaps that it was art.

Rosie and I were 15 feet away, shocked and unsure of what to do or say. She led me away silently, being calm and stable for both of us. Brad and Michelle found us standing by the edge of the river, scanning the grounds for them. They smiled and asked why we were so far from the entrance, unaware of what had happened.

Seeing him as close as we did was truly horrific and unforgettable. The sound of his body hitting the ground is one I will always remember, regardless of how bad I want to repress it. The entire ordeal has left me really disoriented. I am completely detached from my trip and more concerned with why he committed suicide or how he accidentally fell 100 feet from the member's gallery. I've wondered why it had to happen so close to where we were, and why I couldn't look away. I've wondered why everyone was so slow to react and why no one covered his body quickly.

I don't have an explanation for why any of this happened and I have no conclusion or moral or anything happy to end with.