The odds of you, even in Russia, being the victim of a violent crime is near functional zero as long as you are not involved in the illegal drug trade.
You had me curious. This is the only school shooting in Russia so far. Homicides? 11.31/year/100,000 people in Russia vs 4.88 in the US.
Would it surprise you to hear that we never hear about this? When that police major went shooting people in the store? We all heard. When the bombs go off as "terror acts" (even after they become unofficially recognized as FSB work), we all hear it. School shooting? Not a god damn word. There's no war in Ba Sing Se.
(And... damn, the second part turned out long. Sorry. I guess I needed to let it off my chest)
Put yourself in the place of a 13 year old boy.
Don't need to: I was that boy. My parents didn't divorce, but not much would change if they did: ownership over me would still be wielded against the other spouse every few months, but then things would settle down and we all act like nothing happened. (You'll notice by my usage of "ownership" that I'm still bitter about the whole thing) Took me years to realize that this kind of thing is fucked up and that's not how relationships work in other families, where there's rapport, support and understanding.
I, as a person, amounted for little in the family — and if I didn't do well at school, I amounted to even less. It was the case for many of my classmates; school and the time between classes and coming home, however, was much-desired respite for many. After school day is done, they, at 13, would drink beer and do something crazy, like drive around in a stolen car or fight in some quiet place over personal insults. Drugs started to get involved soon after. Is it any surprise once you look at it from above?
(Shit like that would happen even in "good" schools: some burnt-out, attaboy of a student would have a bag of some new shitty drug found in their backpack)
Me? I was a good boy, so I took it stoically — to the point of apathy. The first kind of music I got hooked on was hardcore Russian rap that I got downloaded to my phone by an older school student. I listened to it with the headphones because I knew no one would approve it, let alone see if maybe I'm not doing well. Then I went blatant and turned on the speakers; no one cared. Then came the sharpest, dirtiest dubstep I could put my hands on. As I grew older, mostly intact, I turned to hard rock — because I got a chance to heal. I got into music that leaves most people overwhelmed because things got easier.
By the time I was 16, my mouse-crosshair coordination was fiiine. I got off scoring the most kills in Call of Duty multiplayer, to the point of being accused of cheating every second round. I'd lull myself to sleep with power fantasies every week; I imagined beating up the bullies so they can't stand no more. Still have scars from cutting myself, hidden under the viril fur. It was intense.
I'm still alive because of how repressive my parents were. I couldn't possibly consider going against them back then in such a blatant, blunt fashion. I couldn't possibly do the bad thing. I'm alive because of how fucked-up I am.
I'm healing now, but I still have strong, deep-seated issues that would take a decade to unravel and shed. My sense of intimate privacy has been violated, so I can hardly trust people, which means I can hardly connect, which means lacking the support network I so desperately need. My capacity to change the world has been destroyed, and though I'm perceptably getting over it, I still feel powerless from time to time. That I'm moving forward at all is a miracle. What if there are so many others who lack the same... whatever set of qualities that let me persevere?
That one isn't a hypothetical.
The kid that shot up the school in Moscow? One of the best students — whom some would describe as "strange". No one thought to check up on him: he's doing well in school, and that's all that matters, right? Some people ace things in school naturally; some are pushed to their limits to do as well.