• Years of therapy and anti-depressants could never change how I felt about what happened and how I would never forgive him for this. Such a thing should never have to happen to someone as little as I was. I was only in second grade and to this day I will never forget this.
    I could smell the freshly cut grass looming over a comfortable summer day. I was finally trusted outside by myself. I sat across the street from my small apartment in the slightly damp grass. My mom sat inside of that apartment doing laundry, I could also hear the calming sound of the dryer. I could feel the warm Georgia air brushing against my blushed cheeks. I felt relaxed in my little grass fortress.
    After lounging around for a while I got bored so I decided to take a walk around my complex. I could hear birds chirping as I walked slowly across the hot tar. It felt like hot coals against my bare feet. It felt kind of like I was in a western movie because no one was around and I could only hear the air swishing around in the far background.
    As I walked by an alley I could hear something banging around. I thought of a poor tabby cat stuck in a trash can crying for someone to help. I ran quickly into the alley only to find a frightening scene unfolding right in front of my eyes. I was frozen like an icicle and before I could run away he saw me out of the corner of his eye. I was overwhelmed by fear.
    The strange bearded man held out his boney hand and told me to come to were he was and not to scream or he would shoot me were I stood. My heart started to pulse inside my rib cage. Run I told myself, get an adult. I walked towards him shaking the whole time.
    The skinny man held a gun to a young man’s head. The man had tears flowing down his face and pled for mercy as the twitched at the feeling of the cold gun leaving his head.
    I was afraid of what was going to happen so I didn’t attempt to run because I didn’t know if he would shoot. “Take this and don’t let him move one bit!” the man said putting the gun in my hand and moving my hand up to the brown haired man. I was terrified that I would end this poor man’s life by accident so I moved my hand from the trigger. I was also worried the crazy man would end mine.
    Tears rolled down my face and I couldn’t stop them. I could almost feel my heart in my throat at this point and I wanted to hide from him but I didn’t know were to hide. I looked around the dark alley for anything I could use to escape. I didn’t want to use the gun at any point, even on such a horrible man. I only saw dirt and a broken toy in the alley, neither of which would help me escape.
    It seemed that I was holding the gun to the man’s head for ages but then the man who gave me this murder weapon let his guard down. The first chance I got I dropped the gun to the ground as if it were a bomb. As I ran I could hear the cold gun hit the ground with a metallic sound.
    When I got back to my house my mom asked how my day was and I said just fine. I was scared that if I told my mom she would tell the police and even if it brought the man to justice he would spend his time wearing an orange suit and the moment he got out he would come and kill me. I never to this day have said anything about this to my mom or dad. I can’t remember his face or his voice well but I can remember the silver gun as if it were in my hand still.
    When I see a man with a bearded and skinny hand I start to have flashbacks of that man and the young man crying. It still haunts me and I don’t know if I will ever be able to over come this.