The fast paced world was paused around me as my frozen body watched him fire his small silver handgun that was as shiny as a mirror towards the frightened body that was straight ahead. A second time, this random figure that's head sat about five feet and ten inches away from the ground made an effort to end the life of the frantic woman in medium wash blue jeans. I will never know if the second shot was the one that ended the life of the woman I wish I could have saved. All I could do was pray and make sure my sister and I remained safe throughout the horrific scene that was going on around us.
Earlier on that foggy, dark Friday morning, I got in my large silver Mercury, as I do every morning at six thirty, to head out on a forty minute adventure to school. I honked the horn because my “little” sister was taking too long to finish her carb-filled breakfast. After thirty seconds of honking, which felt like a century, my plump, tall, blonde sister dashes out to the car. I drive through the neighborhood and to stop at the sign that seems to be fading to a lighter shade of red everyday, making it hard to see the letters STOP that are proudly displayed in the middle. I do a long stare to the left to see if I can quickly turn onto the busy Barataria Blvd. Instead of the normal small, red Subaru and lifted, black Ford, a silver Dodge Challenger and white U Haul truck are embracing in a real life game of bumper cars. Out of confusion and fear I pull my car behind the brown brick sign that welcomes everyone into my large neighborhood, Hillcrest. My sister and I, Ella, continue to watch the fascinated, almost fake, game of bumper cars as I inches closer to us. The white U Haul is winning by pushing the silver Dodge off of the smooth, gray road and into the healthy, green, dew covered grass. Once they pass my hidden location, I figure it is now safe to approach the normally peaceful intersection I encounter everyday.
I was wrong, once I get into the left turn lane to go onto Ames Blvd., the tall, built driver of the white U Haul truck removes himself for the comfort of his vehicle and begins to run after the scared, thin woman as if he was a child trying to reach the last Christmas present under the tree. She runs to the middle of the intersection, yelling and scared, but no one knew what was going on. During all of this the man is running as fast as a gazelle aimed to reach his target, the woman. My sister and I sit in the warmth of my car, confused and worried. All of a sudden, the man we once saw as crazy, we now saw as a murderer.
The man, I considered a devil, reached his hand to his waist and from his waist, raised a deadly invention, a silver handgun. My crying sister screamed, “Karsen, he has a gun!” I frantically tried to remove myself to a safer area, but that option was not available. All of a sudden, the devil controlling the silver handgun fired the gun, the weapon spat out fire along with a loud scream. Once again, the murderer aimed the device of death at the frantic woman. Before I could even hear the sound of death, the woman fell to the ground. Then the traffic lights that were once a bright, fire-truck red, turned to a shade of lively green, how ironic.
I sped off as fast a cheetah chasing its prey. The event that had felt like an eternity had only lasted less than two minutes. I dialed nine-one-one as fast as my stubby fingers could type, since my whole body was still in shock from the horrific scene I had just witnessed. I was greeted with the normal, “911, What’s your emergency?” My voice was so shaky I could barely speak, I was still in shock from the tragedy I had just witnessed. Later, I learned that the man who I watched commit a deadly crime, killed not only one innocent person, but two. I will remember this day forever, since it taught me that no one deserves to die.