The intro- Just tell them it was an accident
July 4th 2013 I was shot in the chest with a 9mm hollow tip bullet. Just writing that sentence instantly brings tears to my eyes and images and memories. Sounds and smells come rushing back. The way he bit his lip before he pulled the trigger, the loud pop that sounded like a firecracker, the smell of the gun smoke, and the pattering of my blood hitting the floor. So much blood just came pouring out of this hole in my chest. It took me 3 seconds to register what happened. I couldn’t ignore the constant flow of thick blood coming out of my chest. I put my left hand over my wound to try and stop the bleeding. I screamed for somebody to help me, but then I stopped because ever time I screamed even more blood came gushing out. I looked at my left hand and saw what looked like a medium sized chunk of flesh stuck to my palm. That, and on top of all the blood I had loss, signified the end of my life in my mind. There was no way I was making it out of this. I was mad. I skipped being scared and sad and was immediately angry. I didn’t want to die. I was mad because I felt I had done nothing significant with my life. I was mad I was dying without achieving at least one of my dreams. Then the sadness came. I thought of my mother, my brother. The pain they would feel. Speaking to nobody, I said aloud “Tell my mom I love her and tell my brother I love him”. I remember wandering, stumbling aimlessly around the living room trying to figure out what position dying would hurt the least. I remember I took a knee. Then I tried to lay down but then it felt to real. I was so scared. I wanted to run to my Moms house which was just literally around the corner and have her hold me. Then the next thing I remember is laying on my back and the man who shot me threw his shirt on my chest, looked me in my face and said “Just tell them it was an accident”.
