Final Post "Unforgettable Moment" by Mark Beckham

Pow! Pow! Pow! Was the sound of gunshots coming from around the corner. Me and a few of my friends were sitting in my old project homes’ playground on the steel jungle jim that had a grayish boring look to it and a steel sliding board that looked like it would break at any minute, that is when we heard the gun shots. Before we could react to what was going on I saw my brother’s friend Jamal turn the corner running towards us. I suddenly noticed that he was waving his hand forward I guess signaling us to run but we all didn’t run at first glance because none of us did not know what the signal meant. He had a terrified facial expression on his face as if he saw a ghost and was still waving his hand forward. That is when two people turned the corner and began to open fire on him. “Go! Go! Go! Run! Run!” said, Jamal knowing that the people who were shooting a few seconds ago were shooting at him and they did not care who they shot. That is when I saw the most horrifying thing that an 8 year old could see at that age. They began to open fire on him without mercy shooting him once in the leg and once in the back. He began to fall to the ground and in the background you could here people screaming with the thought of him dying right, then, and there. He laid there in a lifeless motion with his back soaking wet with his own blood as someone would look as if they had just came from out of a pool. I always looked at Jamal as my brother my entire life so to see him getting shot in front of my eyes was like me seeing my own brother being shot at. The entire situation felt unrealistic as if it was a nightmare coming to life. As I ran over towards him to see if he was ok, my friends began to run in the opposite direction as if someone was shooting directly at them. He was lying on his stomach breathing heavily gasping for air—I was in shock at that very moment thinking that the person I looked at as my brother was getting ready to die. In what I thought was going to be his last breath he said, “Call 911”. Because I was so scared and in a state of shock, I ran home to get my mom as most 8 year olds would do. I got to my step but the hallway door was locked and I suddenly remembered that my mom had just recently driven to my aunt’s house. Not knowing what to do and scared to death, I stayed on my step in a fettle position and began to cry because Jamal just got shot and I was all-alone. A few minutes later I heard sirens from a distance getting louder and louder by the second. I was still on my step the entire time anxiously waiting for my mom to come home, so I wasn’t there when the ambulance came and got Jamal but people who were there told me that the paramedics were trying to calm Jamal’s grandma down and were trying to telling her that he was going to be ok. But she wasn’t listening, she was crying her eyes out because she didn’t understand why would someone try to take the life of her only grandson and to see him in a pool of blood was almost unbearable for her to watch. After the ambulance came and got Jamal, I remained on my step until my mom came home. At that young age, I learned to never take life for granted because after that experience I learned that your life could be easily taken away from you at any moment or at any time. Jamal thanks me everyday for saving his life that day, even though it was not me who called 911. I do not have enough courage to tell him that I was to scared to do anything and that I left him out there to die.