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Victim of a Bullet
I lay on the floor, breathing heavily. A pool of red silky liquid forming around me. My eyes focused on the ceiling. I wonder if anyone will find me, and when they do will i be dead? I try not to think about dying... My dad once was talking to me about a heart surgeon, I don't remember his name but I do remember my father telling me, he wouldn't operate on someone's heart unless they had a loved one in the O.R. with them. I was curious so I asked my dad, why? Why wouldn't you operate on someone who needed it just because someone isn't there with you? With a sigh my dad replied, "He said that if you're heart doesn't have a reason to keep beating. Odds are that it won't" and for me that was the most powerful quote I have ever heard. It opened my eyes to the wonders of love. Love is all that keeps us alive sometimes.
My eyelids become heavier and I wish my boyfriend was here with me to hold my hand and tell me everything was going to be alright. My white T-shirt has turned red starting from the bullet hole, and spreading through the bleached strands all the way til the last circle of white. I gave myself a deadline, when my shirt is completely red I'll close my eyes for the last time. A bittersweet moment in anybodys lifetime.
I start counting the minutes and treasuring every second that I have. I realize the beauty of oxygen. I appreciate oxygen now, I never really thought about it before. I take in the aroma of candles and detergent. The two most obvious scents in my new apartment. I just moved out of my moms to start my own life. Unfortunately, the apartment was broken into and they shot me before I could get to the phone. Not very nice of them to do, but whatever helps them through the night.
I glance to my side and see my purse hanging from a chair that is a few steps away. My arms can't reach but I'm sure as hell not giving up yet. I put pressure on the bullet hole, hoping to temporarily slow down the bleeding. The deadline is almost here. I use my free arm to pull myself across the wooden floorboards, leaving a shiny red streak, like that of a paintbrush. The few minutes it took to get to my purse felt like hours. Every movement shot pain through my abdomen. I pulled on the leather strap of my purse. A usually effortless activity now a challenge. I finally get my purse down and rummage through the money and gum wrappers. My boyfriend always nagged at me to clean it but I never bothered. Finally I feel the cold hard plastic that encased my only chance of life.
Now is the part where if this were a movie, you would all be screaming at the screen about how stupid I am, I'm the girl who wanders into the murderers basement. I have my phone but I don't call 911. I call my boyfriend. Yeah, I know it's stupid but if I want to talk to him before I'm in a hospital gown and all tubed up, I will. The ringback tone is a song ironically called I shot the sheriff by Bob Marley. My boyfriend was always a fan of that song. I never really knew why. He answers the phone and I'm so relieved I almost cry.
"Baby, I'm the sheriff" I said, hoping he would somewhat understand because I thought it was pretty clever. If I do say so myself.
"What do you mean? Are you okay, you sound hurt..." he replied, his voice was breathtaking and concerned at the same time.
"These two men broke into my apartment and... well.."
"Well what? Tell me whats going on"
"You know that Bob Marley song that your ringback tone is?" I started to struggle in speaking
"Yeah, I shot the sheriff, but what does this have to do with anything, what did the two men do after they broke into your apartment did they take anything? Did they hurt you?"
"Alec, I'm the sheriff"
There was a moment of silence. As if he understood what I was saying but it was taking him a while to process it..
"Wait, they shot you?!"
"It'll be okay, I'm gonna call 911 and it'll all be fine."
"Are you telling me you got shot. And you didn't call 911 yet?!"
"Well I wanted to talk to you, before I'm all tubey and bandagey"
"Call 911, I'm on my way"
I heard a beep notifying me that he hung up. He always ends conversations like that. He never says I love you. I dial the three numbers that could save my life. My eyelids getting so heavy now that I can barely keep them half open. I lay my phone lazily on top of my left ear.
I try again, this time holding my phone thinking that it will make a difference.
Again no answer.
I remember one night, a couple summers ago, I was looking up videos on Youtube of funny 911 calls. There was one where a little boy called for help with his math. I thought it was adorable, he was only five. But now that I'm the person waiting for someone, anyone to pick up. I don't find it cute anymore. I wonder if while he was working on his math, someone else was laying on their floor dying with no way of getting help.
It's hopeless. I'm going to die. My deadline has reached its limit. The blood is dripping. I never knew exactly how much a person could bleed. It's amazing how much blood is in the human body. I stare at the hole in my stomach, my eyes start playing tricks on me and I see a bunch of little warriors, dressed in metallic protective gear, surrounding the hole pulling the skin and trying to close the gaping wound.
Tears start to make there way down my face. A long journey for those little drops of water. I feel sad for the tears. They come out to feel the fresh air only to fall to the dirty floor and splatter to their death.
Okay yeah, it's official. I'm delirious.
I've waited long enough. My deadline is here and I must proceed with my mission. I take a deep breath and lay all the way down on my back. I first relax my toes, work up to my feet, my knees, my stomach, my back, my neck, my shoulders... Here we go. I take one last deep breath which not suprisingly is very hard to do when you have a hole in your body. Time to relax my eyes, and close them, for the last time.
Right before I close my eyes there's a banging on the door
"Jess! Jess! Unlock the door baby."
I now wish the robbers would have picked the lock and come in through the front door instead of breaking my perfectly good window.
"I can't... I can't move"
"Baby, I know it's hard but you need to come unlock this door. You can do it"
I look at the door. It's about 4 feet away. I can do this. I'll do it for Alec, the man on the other side of that door. I drag myself towards the door. I'm already exhausted, but I keep charging forward.
"Baby? Are you okay?"
I'm in too much pain to answer.
"Jess... Jess! Come on babe wake up! Wake up!"
I use the door handle as something to pull myself up with and on my knees, I unlock the door. I have never been so pleased with myself while unlocking a door. I push downwards on the doorknob and come to a standing position as I open the door.
"Alec, I'm so sorry"
I fall forwards, into his arms. It was like a teen drama movie, or a soap opera. Either way it was very dramatic.
"Baby, why are you sorry, it's okay. There's nothing to be sorry about"
"I, I tried.... I tried calling. It was b-busy"
"What? What are you talking about?"
"911" I said and his face began to become a blur. He was saying something but all I could hear was my breathing. It was like being in a swimming pool. You know how when you're underwater, and your friend tries to talk to you, but you cant understand them? Yeah it was kinda like that.
I was laying in his arms on the floor in the doorway. I felt my eyes start to close.
"No no no no no, Jess. Jess, I'm serious, stay awake." He started shaking me, I could feel it, but it didn't help anything. Then I felt water hit my face. He was crying. I was still awake somewhat.. I don't know if he knew.
"Okay, Jess. I need you. Please, open your eyes and tell me you're okay, the ambulance is on the way, so just please stay with me. Baby, come on.... I love you okay?! I said it, there I love you! Now open your eyes and tell me you love me too! Jess!"
That's all I really remember. I could vaguely hear sirens, and of course Alec screaming at me and telling me he loved me. But that's about it. Now I'm all tubey and bandagey. Still unconscious with Alec sitting beside my bed with his head resting on my hand. I don't know if I'll ever wake up.. But I love him too, and that means I have a reason for my heart to keep beating. I pray to God that the odds are not against me.