Bullet To The Heart
People watch me through eyes filled with pity. I turn away, trying to hide the tears. I don’t need pity from those who do not understand. They don’t know what its like to lose your best friend…to lose him to that awful gang. I know exactly what happened. I was there when they shot him. I watched him fall through the air as if in slow motion; a scream erupting from my mouth. I was the one who fell sobbing to the ground beside him…begging him to wake up.
“Don’t leave me here!” I told him. My eyes found the bullet hole in his chest. I knew he would die. I could do nothing for him. And so I had run. I had pushed my way through the crowds and ran, not knowing where I would end up and not caring. Just wanting to get away from that place. I know I would have to go back. I knew I would have to face everyone in the school. I went back on Monday. I wish I hadn’t. I wish I had just kept running until I fell off the edge of the earth, my grief and anger giving me speed and strength. But I came back. Now, they watch me. People keep coming up to me and saying how sorry they are.
“I know exactly how you feel” they are saying. But they don’t. how can they? A girl I don’t know approaches me.
“Those people who killed your friend…the…gang…why? Why did they do that?” and for the first time in two days…I spoke.
“He…he was friends…with someone involved in…a drug crisis…and his name was…tossed around. They…they…” My voice breaks and fresh tears cascade down my cheeks. I wipe them away furiously. no. he would not have wanted me to be sad. He never would have wanted this. I’ll try to remember him just the way he was…that was what he wanted. To be remembered for who he was. I think I will make a list of twelve things about him…just so ill never forget the way he was. He’d like that. I smile.
1) He had one green eye, and one blue…but you couldn’t tell just by looking. You had to really, REALLY look.
2) He loved food.
3) He sure liked to laugh.
4) He played the guitar.
5) He always knew the right thing to say.
6) He could ride a bike with no hands.
7) He liked the color red.
8) He loved chicken…fried chicken.
9) He knew the answer to everything.
10) He didn’t deserve to die.
11) He was an amazing friend.
12) I love him.
“Don’t leave me here!” I told him. My eyes found the bullet hole in his chest. I knew he would die. I could do nothing for him. And so I had run. I had pushed my way through the crowds and ran, not knowing where I would end up and not caring. Just wanting to get away from that place. I know I would have to go back. I knew I would have to face everyone in the school. I went back on Monday. I wish I hadn’t. I wish I had just kept running until I fell off the edge of the earth, my grief and anger giving me speed and strength. But I came back. Now, they watch me. People keep coming up to me and saying how sorry they are.
“I know exactly how you feel” they are saying. But they don’t. how can they? A girl I don’t know approaches me.
“Those people who killed your friend…the…gang…why? Why did they do that?” and for the first time in two days…I spoke.
“He…he was friends…with someone involved in…a drug crisis…and his name was…tossed around. They…they…” My voice breaks and fresh tears cascade down my cheeks. I wipe them away furiously. no. he would not have wanted me to be sad. He never would have wanted this. I’ll try to remember him just the way he was…that was what he wanted. To be remembered for who he was. I think I will make a list of twelve things about him…just so ill never forget the way he was. He’d like that. I smile.
1) He had one green eye, and one blue…but you couldn’t tell just by looking. You had to really, REALLY look.
2) He loved food.
3) He sure liked to laugh.
4) He played the guitar.
5) He always knew the right thing to say.
6) He could ride a bike with no hands.
7) He liked the color red.
8) He loved chicken…fried chicken.
9) He knew the answer to everything.
10) He didn’t deserve to die.
11) He was an amazing friend.
12) I love him.