Tumblroos, this is my friend’s personal account of experiencing the Batman shooting. When we went to college together, she dated my “Little Brother” in the fraternity for a long time, and I think she’s good people. She mentions that the following may have trauma triggers. If you are inclined to send any kind words her way, you can say that Dan Wantan sent you.
On the night of July 19, 2012, I zipped up my black stiletto boots, tied myself into a black corset, fastened my black cat ears, and went to see a movie. This movie was a movie that I had been looking forward to for years, a movie that I was sure would be an epic and fitting conclusion to a trilogy that had entertained and entranced me. As I stepped out into that dark night, Catwoman costume-adorned, heart and soul pulsating with anticipation, I held a ticket to the 12:01 showing to The Dark Knight Rises in Theatre 8 at the Century Theatre in Aurora, CO.
By some screwy twist of fate, this would not be the theatre in which I would see this movie. My group was a rag-tag bunch that, in an attempt to all see the premiere at midnight, had purchased tickets to several different showings that night. The theatre that we all converged in was Theatre 9.