I didn't know what to do, I had just shot someone purely from anger that I was unable to control. He was laying there in front of me, bleeding from the wound where I had shot him. My
heart was pounding and I had no idea what I had just done. I mean, it happened so fast, and what was I supposed to do in a situation like that.
The man had arrived at my home stating that he was only there to grab something which he had left from before. I asked him what he had forgotten and he said it was his sunglasses. I offered to help him find them, but he said it was alright and he could find them quickly and be out in no time at all. Then, about twenty minutes later I was about to head upstairs to check on the man when I saw my wife, Michelle, come downstairs with a towel wrapped around her. I could guess what had happened almost immediately because she had taken a shower earlier that day.
When she saw the anger in my face, she stared
at me for what seemed like a millisecond and screamed "no, leave him be!"
In that moment, I reached over to my pistol, rushed up the stairs, and headed towards the master bedroom. The man was dressed and looked as though he was about to leave. (Without his sunglasses) He turned to look at me and calmly asked me too lower my gun, I didn't budge it an inch. I simply asked him who he was, he didn't answer.
What he said was shaky yet understandable. "Sir please lower the gun, we don't
want anyone getting hurt now do we?"
What he didn't realize is that he had just slept with my wife and that I was furious that not only he had done that, but that my own wife had betrayed me and slept with a man in our own apartment. I aimed my gun at his forehead, he was obviously terrified because the moment before I shot he cried out nine little words. "You will remember this for the rest of your life." I shot.
Michelle came running upstairs. When she opened the door to the bedroom she screamed when she saw him. I could tell she was also terrified, not only of what had just commenced, but also that I was
the one who shot the gun. She looked at him, then at me, then at him again, still with the look of fear in her eyes. When she looked at me again her eyes
were emotionless, almost as though they were rock solid. When she spoke it was almost as though she was whispering.
"How could you do
this to such an innocent man Adam . You went too far, and I'm calling the police."
"Michelle." I didn't believe I would be trying to stop her from leaving, but I did.
"It's over Adam. I'm not staying and you can't stop me from leaving. For shits sake you just murdered a man. You can't
honestly believe I'm going to stay with you!"
"You had sex with that man in our bed!" I couldn't believe I was stating something I would have to say to a judge.
"Adam, I'm calling the police, and I'm leaving. The next place you'll see me will be in trial."
I couldn't believe it. She was actually leaving. She was going to call the cops. I couldn't stop her. Even if I begged (which she wanted me to) she would still
call the Police.
And just like that she stormed out of bedroom, the apartment, the building. She was gone. I couldn't chase her, couldn't try to stop her, couldn't take back what
had just happened. I just sat on that bed, not even realizing that the police would be on their way. I just couldn't believe that she was gone. I was in a shock that seemed like it would last forever. I wanted to tell her one last
thing before she stormed out. I wanted to tell her I loved her, but I just couldn't spit the words out of my mouth. I felt pitiful. I felt like she was gone forever, but
she really wasn't. I would be seeing her in trial, just like she had said in our argument.
I had to move, and fast. I couldn't allow Michelle to overcome my thoughts when
the police could be here any moment by now. I looked towards the balcony, the
apartment was on the twelfth floor so I couldn't jump from there, I would most likely not make the jump. But it was my only option, I had no choice but to jump. What about the man's body, and the murder weapon. what was I supposed to do with those?
It didn't matter right now, I couldn't take the gun with me because no matter what the police would trace it back to me.
Then, "someone" knocked on the front door about three times. I was certain that the next thing that would happen would be someone stating "Chicago
Police, open the door, we'd like to ask you a few questions." It was, and I had to get out of there. I couldn't let them find me, I had to use my only option, the balcony. I opened the door to the balcony, walked towards the edge, took one last look at my old life, closed my eyes, and jumped.
Some might have thought of it as a suicide attempt, which in a way, It might have been one at the time, but at least I had a chance of making the jump instead of being stuck in
the slammer for the rest of my life.
I guess I passed out when I hit the ground because when I woke up it seemed like my whole body was in pain. I couldn't tell if that was just from the trauma or that I had broken every bone in my body. I could slightly see the flashing lights coming from the police cars at the front of my building. There were people staring at me, asking me if I was okay, what the reason was that I
jumped for, some even asked if I wanted help.
I said. "No, no I'm alright, I don't need help, thank you though."
I felt as though I was lying to them because I wasn't okay in the least. I couldn't get out of my mind what I had just done, or that I was wanted by the police. I was a murderer. I wish I could've gone back in time and taken
back what I did, or at least do something completely different to what I did.
But honestly, don't we all want to go back to at least one point in our lives and change what we did? Kind of like when you would be at the highest grade in
high school or middle school and you look at old photographs from your first year and your reaction is "What was I thinking?" Right now I guess I
was kind of thinking that, except I wasn't feeling this regret years after, I had been feeling it since the second I shot the bullet.
