Chase After Acceptance

Unknown Mysteries

I've always hated shootings. Hate is a word I don't use often, but when I do, it is for something big. Shows how much I truly despise the thing I hate. It isn't a word taken lightly, and I rarely use it. But when I do, I mean it.

I hate shooting. Being a police officer, I've always been prepared for one, but I could never be prepared for it. Nothing can prepare you for that hell. I remember it all clearly, outside a school. The shooter, a deranged monster of a man who targeted the weakest of society, the children. Used as a means of attention it seems, school shooting happen far too often than one would like to admit. What comes of these attacks are unimaginable. You can't picture it unless you've seen it, and you can't ever forget.

The bodies of injured or dead children around you as you push on to find the killer behind the merciless slaughter. It is something I would never condemn my worst enemy to witness or experience. The innocent young minds of a bright future cut off and to be forever young. Not given the chance to grow old, or become wise.

It was on the day I can never forget that there were three people. Myself, the gunman, and a boy. Outside a local preschool is where I first saw the man and the child.

I saw a boy standing there, frozen in place by fear. He dared not move as the gunman, who stood ten metres down the pavement road, lifted his gun and took aim. The smile on the man's face as he was about to take another life sent chills down my spine. When he was about to fire, I ran. I sprinted towards the boy faster than I'd ever ran in my twenty eight year life. I knew it was crazy, but I knew it was right. It didn't matter if I was shot, it didn't matter if I was injured. All I cared about was saving the innocent boy.

I heard his gun erupt with sound just as I got there. I felt it in my lower chest a moment later. Thankfully my vest was blocking where it hit. I pulled out my gun and stood in front of the boy, protecting him from the crazed man.

I saw the man's eyes. Now entirely focused on me, a new target. They burned bright with the fires of insanity. He had nothing to lose if I killed him, but I had everything to lose at that moment. To him, what was another kill besides another victory?

The boy hugged my leg tight. I towered over him, shielding him from the danger of the man. I looked ahead, straight into the eyes of the devil. He looked at me and smiled again. He took a step forward, then back. I followed him with my gun, never losing the concentration I had. Everything relied on me. The boy depended on me. I had to win this fight.

He took a step back, then stopped. He bored holes into my soul with his soulless gaze.

Then he fired.

Bullets whizzed past me as he pressed down on the trigger time and time again. Bullets hit my vest. I felt one skim my lower leg, and grunted from the pain.

"Stay behind me," I yelled at the kid. He made himself smaller and clung to my leg.

I fired back, aiming for the man's head and chest. He had to be stopped before he killed me and the boy. I aimed carefully and fired multiple times in a row.

As I fired the shot that ended his life, I felt two more bullets hit me. He fell to the ground laughing as he saw my left shoulder and leg start to bleed profusely. To him, he still won.

I brought my hand to my shoulder and started shaking when I saw it dripping with my own blood. My breathing quickened and I heard my shoulder pop. I turned to the wide eyed boy.

"Get help," I said to him in a uneven voice. My left leg gave out and I fell onto the street. On my side I could feel the blood spurting out of my wounds, so I flipped myself onto my back.

The boy ran away screaming for help. "Help! Help!" I heard him say. He returned crying, tears flowing down his face and neck. I choked and had to focus on breathing. I couldn't comfort him as he started sobbing and screaming again for help.