In one minute you can respond to a text, pass a note in class or decide flats or heels. In one minute your life can come crashing down on you and everything you ever knew can be changed. My life came to a screeching halt, in the minute it took for the bullet to shatter through my window and graze above my head.
I was a nine, young, innocent and I soaked everything up. Violence was taught as school as something that was never tolerated and at home the same rule applied. If I hit my brother I would end up in time-out for a couple of minutes to reflect on why my actions were wrong. In life I thought everyone abided by the same rules. I had always wondered why people felt the need to carry guns around because violence was not allowed. My life was normal; I had two loving parents, one sister and two brothers. We were a middle class family; we had lots of relatives that lived down the street from us. I had a good life.
The day the bullet came through my window, my thought that violence was not allowed came crashing down along with the window. I couldn’t wrap my head around why anyone would want to hurt me or my family. It was one single shot. It barely missed my head, I had cried out in fear and my mom and dad came running into my room. My oldest brother, Asher, had dialed 9-1-1 and I soon heard the blaring sirens engulfing our quite street. The simple question asked by the police men was who could have done this and why. We were puzzled, we didn’t know anyone that could possibly want to hurt us or take my life. The officer told me I was lucky that only one shot was fired because if more were fired I most likely would have been hit. I thought back to all the murder mystery shows I had watched and how a suspect was always discovered, but discovering this suspect would be a long journey, full of pain and broken friendships.
The cops started off by interviewing our neighbors, relatives, and close friends to find out where they were one the night of the shooting and if they knew anyone that would want to hurt us. Everyone was flabbergasted, they could not think of anyone that would do such a thing. There was no evidence left, just the bullet of handgun. The handgun was a common model, sold in every sporting goods store. The case seemed like it was coming to a dead end, that the person behind this would never be caught. I lost all faith in the investigation and lots of sleep. Seeing the headlights shining through windows at our house at night scared me. What if it was the shooters car coming back? I lived in a constant fear. Until suddenly there was a break in the case. One of our elderly neighbors had been gone when the police questioned the neighbors, but when she let her dog out that night she had saw a blue SUV in front of our house. She had thought it was just a guest of ours and did not give a second thought to it. We thought of anyone we knew that had a blue SUV. It narrowed it down to three people; my friend Leah’s mom, my cousin Katy, and my track coach Mr. Pitt. We could not imagine why any of them would want to hurt me, but the police interviewed each of them. Leah’s mom and Katy both had alibies, but Mr. Pitt was just down the street from my house at the time of the shooting. I was devastated. The man I had trusted, who had been my coach, he couldn’t have possibly done this to me. Why would he want to hurt me? He always told me at track “Hadley one day you will be a star and I will help you achieve that goal.” How could that man want to hurt me, the man whose goal was to help me exceed in life. And then I remembered that he watched every event I was in and always gave me a hug after and told me I did fabulous. I thought that all coaches did that to their athletes. I mean come on this was a small Missouri town. Everyone knew each other, it was definitely not a place where drive by shootings occurred. The police started investigating Mr. Pitt. They found out that he had disappeared from the party for about 10 minutes. Enough time to drive to my house, shoot, and drive back to the party; making it look like he had just gone to the bathroom or get another drink. The police brought me in for questioning. They asked if there was any reason he would have done this. I told them that Mr. Pitt had always been my favorite coach. He encouraged me to excel and never put me down because I did badly. I told them that he was very upset when I could no longer do track because it interfered with my hectic dance schedule. He had told me to quit dance. Why should I dance? Running was way more important to your body than remembering to point your toes and remember your eight counts. I had regretted quitting track because I did love running, but dancing was just so important to me. Anyways, I told them how Mr. Pitt wouldn’t stop and talk to me in the hall anymore. It was as if because I quit track I was now a no body to him. The cops thought this was a reasonable story and brought him down for questioning. He of course denied ever doing something like that and agreed to take the polygraph test. He failed miserably. I couldn’t believe my ears when they told me that he was the one that had shot into my house and almost ended my life.
Its seventeen years later, I’m twenty-six and happily married to the love of my life, Parker. We have an adorable two year old daughter, Skylar, and a fourth month old son, Ellington. I have so many reasons to be thankful; my family, my career, and my life. Mr. Pitt served 15 years in prison for attempted murder. He wrote me a note asking for my apology and that he didn’t know why he would have wanted to injury me. I count my blessings every day because I know that one bullet could have changed my life forever. In one minute you can tell someone you love them, give someone a hug, and in one minute you can count your blessings and remember how lucky you are compared to some people. I take one minute out of my day every day to do those three simple things. One night, one bullet, and I survived.
