Shot - Elaine Rosales

I didn't know where I was or what I was doing there. All I saw were a few people. Who they were or where I had seen them was beyond me. It didn't matter. It all happened so fast. One minute I was in that bright, sunny room; feeling relaxed and comfortable. The next thing I know, I'm running for my life. there might have been more, but there was one that was after me. I see his face. It's a mustached, angry, contorted face that freezes every fiber of my being. As I run through the maze of hallways in that strange, unfamiliar building, a sickening, loud popping sound fills the air along with the blood-curdling shrieks of death and despair of which harmonizes with the cacophony of breaking glass; speeding bullets whizzing by and hitting anything they may encounter whether it's me, a window, or a wall. I turn a few more corners until I finally stumble into another room where the other people are hiding. For a split second, I think I've lost my attacker, but my heart continues to race. Two seconds later, shouts of anger resound throughout that room, barking orders that everyone drop to the floor. I do so for the sake of the strange notion that my life can be spared. As I lay on that wooden floor on my side, I pray that my attacker won't kill me as a terrible, impending fear swallows me whole. Every cell in my body freezes and tingles. Every breath that I take is shaky and slow; the oxygen trying to be of comfort to my pounding heart with no avail. I feel an eternity pass in a suspenseful silence, broken by the ravenous killer's heavy boots dragging and thudding on the polished wooden floor. I am among the many bodies strewn and scattered around the floor that could very well end up being my deathbed, as I lay there I silently pray with everything I still could have in me. "Oh God, please help me! Don't let me get killed! God, please! Help me! Don't let me be killed!" over and over again. I raise my eyes and see my Bible. I have no idea of how it got there, but I'm grateful to see it. With trembling hands, I quickly reach for it and pull out a piece of paper that I find under the thick black cover. In the same horrified state, I quickly take the paper and open it seeing something on it, but not knowing what; not being able to see it or understand it since my mind is racing with my heart, which feels like it's going to explode at any moment. I smash the paper and hold it as I squeeze my eyes shut and keep praying the prayer that has now become a chant that, I hope, still has the power to save my life. As I take a deep breath, I open my eyes and look up above me; ultimately regretting it when I do. Like a wolf approaching its helpless prey, my killer approaches me with the same slow, heavy footsteps; shooting his other helpless victims as he comes. I take a quick breath and hold it. For some odd reason, the killer reaches over me and shoots the person lying below me. I let out another shaky breath that ends up being my last. My killer slowly turns his head towards me and raises his weapon as I continue to pray daring not to look at the gun, but knowing the terrible reality that it's there. Suddenly, a loud pop shatters the silence, making me jump. I feel as if a small stone has hit hte side of my neck. A cool wetness washes over me; soaking my neck and running down my body. I feel no pain as darkness slowly begins to cover my eyes until I'm unable to see anything anymore. When I wake up, I find myself in the same room. From a higher point of view, I can see myself lying in the same position on the same polished wood floor; dead. There's nothing around me but my Bible and a crimson pool of blood continually pouring out of a small, but gaping hole in the same spot on my neck. A terrible cry breaks the silence as my friends gather around my dead body in shock and in grief; their pained faces flashing across my eyes until everything turns black; this time, for good. And that's when I woke up.