I didn't understand why I was doing these things. I didn't understand why I put myself through this, even though I thought this would never happen. Especially to me. All of this had seemed like a movie or a video game. Even worse, some popular fiction by a really good author. But it isn't. As much as I wished it was.
This was it; A freshman with a 4.0, who had high aspirations of joining the military, is about to kill a kid no more than a few years older than themself. Everyone told me I had great potential and that I had a few problems I had to work on, but I could be anything I wanted in life. I was successful in JROTC, beyond excited to join the Navy when I could, and go and see the world. I thought I was done with trouble. I thought I had everything situated just about. I'd be successful and forget about the years of therapy my mom put me in, to save me. I'd forget about the constant arguments about how "I was just like my dad," and how "I'd never change." But I'm standing on top of a kid, pointing the gun that I earned for being apart of this group. Ready to kill him. To shatter his dreams because we didn't think the same.
I had never been one to pray, but while I had that gun in his face, I looked up at the moon and I prayed. I knew I wasn't like this, I knew that it wasn't me. I had already been locked up, and I definately didn't want to go back. So why was I doing this?
As I began to look down, I felt the tears fall, and my nose was getting stuffy. I knew that I couldn't go back, and I knew that if there was something out there, I wouldn't make it if I made this decision.
I had the split second thought to turn the gun on myself, but before I did, I took one last glance at the side of the house. I was finally coming to my senses. I step back from the body and lower my gun. I look back at my friend and shook my head. The guy on the floor had been watching the whole time, and even though he couldn't see me well, we both knew this wasn't us. I glance at my watch: 11:26. Curfew is in 30 minutes.
YOU ARE READING
Chasing Matters
Non-FictionTrue story about some things I put myself through. As a freshman in high school, I had been straight out of lock up. Instead of it being only 6 months like it was last time, it was going to cost me my whole life.
