In the Midst of Everything [Archive] - Glock Talk


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07-17-2007, 00:38
A journey to the middle of the room turned into the journey of my life. I couldn't believe how everything could change by just the simple act of changing your position; a different advantage point or view. The time of night dragged on and I was bored. The party I was at seemed to die down. Beer cans and cups were knocked around on the floor by staggaring steps. Every now and then you would hear the crunch of a can or the cracking of a cup and the hum of drunken slurs would drone on. I heard the hackling of some teens in the corner of the room chugging down beer after beer and making fun of some of those that had drank to much. I slowly rose from my feet, having had a little too much to drink myself. Steadying myself I placed my hands on my head to force the room from spinning. I then took a step forward. One step at a time I made my way to the center of the room, slowly weaving in and out of bodies that were around the room. All of a sudden we heard shots ring out. At first no one registered quite what had happened but once it did chaos rang out throughout the house. I looked around the room and noticed some of the people had blood flowing from an assortment of areas. A couple of them were on the floor crying or already dead from wounds to the head and heart. I felt a pain in my arm but since I had injured it the day before I figured that it was just bothering me agian and shook it off. No one wanted to call the cops seeing as we were all drunk and that there were underage drinkers there but it didn't matter because the sound of sirens already filled the air. Before anyone sounded a warning, there was a rush for the back door or any outlet from the place. I scrambled around but found that I had no use of my right arm where the pain had been surging from. I looked down but didn't see anything. I reached my left hand over to move my right arm and I felt something wet. <i>Wet? Why is my arm wet? Did I spill beer on me?</i> I looked at my hand and saw red. I was bleeding. I had been hit during the drive through shooting.
I looked around for my buddy Nelton Brookes but didn't see him, so I stumbled through the rest of the room trying to get my barrings. I fell over a body and did a face plant into the wooden floor. Now my nose was bleeding and hurt fiercly. I looked down and there bleeding from the head and arm was Nelton, my best friend. I wanted to die. I hurt in more places than I could count. Before I could get up again the police had come through the door with the paramedics not far behind. I tried to get away but they wouldn't let me. I faught as hard as I could but it was to no avail.
Chief deputy Mark Sutmen took my left arm and helped me up. Then tried to get a statement from me. I wouldn't talk, all I wanted was to wake up, to not hurt, and to have my friend back. The last thing I remember was warm tears trickling down my face and then the black of night that carried me away.