A Day In The Park | Teen Ink

A Day In The Park

December 1, 2008
By Anonymous

As I reclined underneath the shade of a great Georgia pine, I watched my sister clumsily allow a Frisbee to strike her in the face and bloody her nose. The savory and yet nasty smell of corndogs from the vendor down the lane filled my nostrils and almost made me gag.
The soft jingle of a passing ice cream truck snapped my sub consciousness back to reality. The odd appearance of the vehicle made me question its true purpose in the park. Between the peeling paint, lack of cheesy logo and flavor list, the truck just seemed out of place. My assumption proved to be correct when six men hastily jumped out of the back of the truck, dressed in all black. I thought to myself -- this cannot be good. The next sound I remember hearing is the hail of gunfire erupting from the machine guns the men produced from under their coats. I immediately ducked for cover behind a tree. Wood began to splinter and bark flew as the gunmen sprayed the park with bullets. My dad, a police officer, reacted instinctively. He snatched his six shot revolver from his leg holster and began to return fire as he ran for cover behind an overturned picnic table. One gunman collapsed as a shot from another civilian rang out, my dad had assistance. I began to survey for a possible reason for this attack, but as bark was blown off the tree right beside my head I decided to stay under cover. Sirens could be heard screaming down the boulevard at full speed. The warriors began to panic; my dad took advantage of this and advanced on them. He swiftly maneuvered and returned fire between the cover of the tree and took out two more of the attackers while on the move. As he attempted to reload his weapon, he took a shot to his ankle. In shock and disbelieve, I ran to his aid. In my rage, I was shot twice in the shoulder and stumbled onto grass.
When I awoke in confusion, I realized I had not been shot and there was no attack. The pain in my shoulder came from being hit by a Frisbee thrown at me by my dad. I guess it had all been a dream. I only wish I knew who won the gunfight.



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