The Day the World went Black.

November 5, 2011
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The sound of the gun shot echoed off the walls of the alley. My heart skipped a beat, and my feet took off into the direction of the noise. I got there in quickly, but already a crowd was gathering. The person sat crumpled on the ground, their face looked as if the red liquid melted off their face and landed on a puddle by their left shoulder.

I pushed through the growing crowd to get closer, desperate to know who it was. Did I know them? Were they old? Were they young? Why were they shot? Many questions clouded my mind as my eyes rested onto the body. The person was folded oddly, as if they were already seated when they were shot.

The red and green flannel shirt was plastered to the body, the blood providing a sort of paste. I scanned the rest of the body, hoping to clue me in on the gender. My eyes rested on the boots, and I sat there, trying to sort through the cloud resting in my mind. I knew I had seen them before.

I howled with anguish, and flew my body to the bleeding man. “Somebody call an ambulance!” I could imagine myself saying.

I knew know words were coming out, and as many hands tried to pry me away, I finally found my voice. “Don’t touch me! This is my brother!”

And my world went black.





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