The Deadly Consequences of Misunderstanding
By
@Gamerguy1991
"Dispatch, this is Officer Daniels, I'm on patrol through Battery East, I just passed the Golden Gate Welcome Center, nothing to report thus far." God, this job is mundane, I thought I would be saving lives, getting in car chases, being a real hero.
Instead, I get to walk down this same uneven path every day, making sure no one is fucking, keeping the homeless from sleeping or doing drugs under the Bridge, and if I get really lucky, arresting a hooker, or two. Still, getting to see Golden Gate every day, I mean, if I have to waste my life walking up and down, busting people's chops for no reason except my paycheck, at least I get to see something beautiful. Maybe I should not take this job for granted, I do get to walk down a nice path, see incredible nature, and hell, few people bother me out here. Maybe, just maybe, this is better than I thought.
"Officer Daniels... Officer Daniels!" I hear my name shouted over the radio, startling me so greatly my heart skips a beat. "Yes, Dispatch?" I speak nervously, she must have been trying to tell me something for several minutes... "Well, there's the missing officer." God, I hated Sharon's sarcastic tone, she could never even pretend to care. "We have reports of a deranged male a few thousand feet from your position on Battery East. He is about six foot four, black, wearing baggy shorts, sandals, and a dark blue shirt covered in stars. At first, it was reported to be a seizure, someone tried to help and call 911, then he knocked the phone away from the individual, and started bouncing down the path making loud aggressive noises."
This man must be on drugs, high off his ass, he could hurt someone... "Is the man armed?" I inquire as my heart rate skyrockets. "We are unsure, there may have been a bulge in his right pants pocket." Could be a small pistol... "The person he attacked, how badly were they injured?" Sharon's tone became serious and robotic, "It was an elderly male, he fell to the ground and hit his head, he is en route for medical care." "Understood Dispatch, I am pursuing the assailant, send back up." I then rush down the winding path towards the lunatic, my hand reaches to draw my Glock as I hear screams ahead of me. I come to a group blocking the left-hand path to Fort Point Overlook, I holster my pistol as I notice they appear all to be frightened, angry, and arguing amongst themselves until I show up.
"Officer, Officer," A young woman frantically calls for my attention. " This man was running, screaming, and he knocked over my 5-year-old little girl." I look down seeing the sobbing child, who appeared to be battered and bruised, the anger swells inside. "She is ok, but very scared, worse though, he was swinging his huge arms around in all directions, he could knock someone else to the ground and kill them!" She nearly screams through her intense sobbing. "Where did he go?" "He ran down Fort Point overlook heading underneath Golden Gate."
I take a deep, slow, and steady breath, then with my right hand I reach to draw my Glock once more, as I dash to the left down the battered pavement.
I notice the sea, and then smell the saltwater in the air as I rush towards uncertainty. I feel an intense gust of wind batter me, as I grip my pistol firmly while attempting to control my heart rate, I begin taking larger breaths with each step forward. I see the large, looming presence of my potential suspect before me, he had just made it under the bridge, so I know I have to huff it even harder. I feel winded but push through it anyway, while I rush towards the hulking man before me. I radio dispatch while hot on the trail of my first dangerous suspect, "Approaching suspect, back up required at G.P.S location" He appears to be punching and kicking the air, jumping up and down, snarling and shouting what could be words, but sound more like guttural noises. I swiftly raise my gun and aim before shouting in the most intimidating manner I could muster. "Freeze! On your knees, hands behind your head now!" The man then starts screaming violently at me, "There is no issue here sir! THERE IS NO ISSUE HERE SIR!!!
I shout again, "On your knees, hands behind your head now!"
I shout again, "On your knees, hands behind your head now!"
The burly man before me starts pacing back and forth muttering to himself, his hands can't stay still, he keeps rubbing them one over another, again and again as he continues to pace back and forth. Then he starts mumbling incoherent madness that he repeats to himself, "A structure cannot stand without a foundation. Logic is the foundation of function. Function is the essence of control. I am in control. I am in control." He repeats it more times than I can count, faster and faster each time as he begins to reach inside his right pocket. I realize then and there, this madman plans to blow up the Golden Gate Bridge. His hands tremble even more rapidly as he struggles inside his pocket. My heart pounds, sweat pours down my face, my hands tremble as I shout, "Stop or I will fire!" The man's hand trembles in his pocket as he shouts with tears running down his face, "A structure cannot stand..." I see the look in his eyes while he speaks, "without foundation," My hands shake, I know I cannot let this happen.
I pull the trigger on my Glock rapidly, I fire more shots than I can count, the deafening sound of gunfire echoes along the waves crashing nearby. His hand flys out of his pocket, as his chest is struck several times over with the rounds from my 9mm. I then see the black, oblong object fly out of his hands as he falls backward, crashing violently into the ground as blood gushes from the wounds covering his chest. The man starts whaling, crying out, "Lieutenant Commander Tuvok, Lieutenant Commander Tuvok, Lieutenant Commander Tuvok...." I rush to the man dropping my gun and falling to my knees beside him. I then notice wireless earbuds poking out of his ears, he looks up at me, afraid, tears run down his face. "Where is Lieutenant Commander Tuvok!" he shrieks while muttering incoherent words to himself. Out of breath and stammering, he fights to get the words out, "Get Tuvok, make sure he is ok!"
I look up and see what was in his pocket, it was a toy, an action figure of a black man with pointed ears in a Star Trek uniform. "Is he ok!" The man utters while coughing up blood. I then am struck as if by lighting, I just shot a man with the mind of a child for reaching for his toy... I take off my overshirt and take the man in my arms, I hold him tight using my shirt to cover the blood. "Lieutenant Commander Tuvok is ok, he was uninjured." I speak softly, as the man with the eyes of a child looks up at me trying to speak, "I am sorry sir for breaking protocol, please beam me to sickbay." The poor boy cries while pleading, "I won't misbehave again, I was playing, I'm sorry. Please get The Doctor to heal my phaser wounds, they hurt!" I realized at that moment exactly what he was asking for, exactly what he thought had happened. I cradle the child I shot in my arms, I quickly radio dispatch. "I need E.M.Ts to my location stat, multiple gunshot wounds, this child is dying." Before I can finish my plea for help, I see the light fade from the boy's eyes, as he slumps in my arms. "Wake up, come on kid, we are going to get you to sickbay, please..." I hold him closer and tighter to my chest, wrapping my arms around him. "You did not break protocol young cadet. I did, protocol was to guard life, I failed." I kiss his forehead while hugging him tightly. "You would have made the Federation proud, you cared for your comrade's life more than your own..." I radio dispatch once more, explaining what I had just done...
I must have sat there for what seemed like hours until the E.M.Ts finally arrived, but they were not alone, the Cheif himself had come down. "Sonny, I know you feel like hell, but you did what had to be done." I look up at his burly figure, the Cheif's wide and tall stature made him imposing even if I was standing, let alone collapsed helplessly on the gravel. "Let me help you up Sonny." I stare into his eyes before finally uttering, "It was senseless, there was no justice, I saved no lives, I only took the life of a good boy Victor." Victor reached down gently, and with both hands on my shoulders, his words finally broke through, "You saved your life today, and tomorrow you could save the life of another, you did what you had to do." Victor's and I's gaze never left, we were locked in silence for several moments before he finally helped me to my feet... "Listen, Sonny, you are going to have to give a speech to the press in a few hours, but first lets head to the office and clean up." I look stunned and reply, "I have no words for a speech sir..." Victor pats me on my shoulder as we walk up past the Golden Gate, just as he says,
"Don't worry kid, I'll write it for you..."
I pull the trigger on my Glock rapidly, I fire more shots than I can count, the deafening sound of gunfire echoes along the waves crashing nearby. His hand flys out of his pocket, as his chest is struck several times over with the rounds from my 9mm. I then see the black, oblong object fly out of his hands as he falls backward, crashing violently into the ground as blood gushes from the wounds covering his chest. The man starts whaling, crying out, "Lieutenant Commander Tuvok, Lieutenant Commander Tuvok, Lieutenant Commander Tuvok...." I rush to the man dropping my gun and falling to my knees beside him. I then notice wireless earbuds poking out of his ears, he looks up at me, afraid, tears run down his face. "Where is Lieutenant Commander Tuvok!" he shrieks while muttering incoherent words to himself. Out of breath and stammering, he fights to get the words out, "Get Tuvok, make sure he is ok!"
I look up and see what was in his pocket, it was a toy, an action figure of a black man with pointed ears in a Star Trek uniform. "Is he ok!" The man utters while coughing up blood. I then am struck as if by lighting, I just shot a man with the mind of a child for reaching for his toy... I take off my overshirt and take the man in my arms, I hold him tight using my shirt to cover the blood. "Lieutenant Commander Tuvok is ok, he was uninjured." I speak softly, as the man with the eyes of a child looks up at me trying to speak, "I am sorry sir for breaking protocol, please beam me to sickbay." The poor boy cries while pleading, "I won't misbehave again, I was playing, I'm sorry. Please get The Doctor to heal my phaser wounds, they hurt!" I realized at that moment exactly what he was asking for, exactly what he thought had happened. I cradle the child I shot in my arms, I quickly radio dispatch. "I need E.M.Ts to my location stat, multiple gunshot wounds, this child is dying." Before I can finish my plea for help, I see the light fade from the boy's eyes, as he slumps in my arms. "Wake up, come on kid, we are going to get you to sickbay, please..." I hold him closer and tighter to my chest, wrapping my arms around him. "You did not break protocol young cadet. I did, protocol was to guard life, I failed." I kiss his forehead while hugging him tightly. "You would have made the Federation proud, you cared for your comrade's life more than your own..." I radio dispatch once more, explaining what I had just done...
I must have sat there for what seemed like hours until the E.M.Ts finally arrived, but they were not alone, the Cheif himself had come down. "Sonny, I know you feel like hell, but you did what had to be done." I look up at his burly figure, the Cheif's wide and tall stature made him imposing even if I was standing, let alone collapsed helplessly on the gravel. "Let me help you up Sonny." I stare into his eyes before finally uttering, "It was senseless, there was no justice, I saved no lives, I only took the life of a good boy Victor." Victor reached down gently, and with both hands on my shoulders, his words finally broke through, "You saved your life today, and tomorrow you could save the life of another, you did what you had to do." Victor's and I's gaze never left, we were locked in silence for several moments before he finally helped me to my feet... "Listen, Sonny, you are going to have to give a speech to the press in a few hours, but first lets head to the office and clean up." I look stunned and reply, "I have no words for a speech sir..." Victor pats me on my shoulder as we walk up past the Golden Gate, just as he says,
"Don't worry kid, I'll write it for you..."
I stare blankly at the report on my tv, seeing the officer who took my son away from me, giving a fake apology.
"Today I took a life, the intended purpose was to save the lives of others. Instead, I took the life of an innocent. However, if I had to make that choice again, I would do the same. Because you simply never know, and most of all, The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the Few."
I cannot stop pacing back and forth, thinking over and over the same thing, all while tears stream down my face as I hold back bubbles of snot. "If no one takes a stand, more will die for nothing but fear, and a paycheck." Every day you know it is possible. You see it on the News, you read about it on Twitter, you hear the screams echoing throughout your country. The screams of those who lost their babies. You always think it can happen, you even fear it, but you never fathom it will.
Slowly my mind gets twisted and turned through my own repeated thoughts. They are so persistent, that all I can do is pace through my marble bathroom. I can't even stand to see my reflection in the huge, brightly lit double mirrors. I close my eyes briefly still seeing the brightness of the lights, before turning to hastily walk past the huge vanity that separates my cluttered sink.
All I want to do is run to Mikey's room and down his whole bottle of Xanax. Yet, I can't bring myself to move from the tile to the carpet of my bedroom. All I can manage is to stand there motionless, as I leer at my huge burgundy bed in front of me. My mind tries to tell me that it looks so inviting. As if I could crawl in, and wake up to Mikey's asking, "Mother, I would function better, and with greater morale, if you would please come watch Star Trek with me at this time."
"Today I took a life, the intended purpose was to save the lives of others. Instead, I took the life of an innocent. However, if I had to make that choice again, I would do the same. Because you simply never know, and most of all, The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the Few."
I cannot stop pacing back and forth, thinking over and over the same thing, all while tears stream down my face as I hold back bubbles of snot. "If no one takes a stand, more will die for nothing but fear, and a paycheck." Every day you know it is possible. You see it on the News, you read about it on Twitter, you hear the screams echoing throughout your country. The screams of those who lost their babies. You always think it can happen, you even fear it, but you never fathom it will.
Slowly my mind gets twisted and turned through my own repeated thoughts. They are so persistent, that all I can do is pace through my marble bathroom. I can't even stand to see my reflection in the huge, brightly lit double mirrors. I close my eyes briefly still seeing the brightness of the lights, before turning to hastily walk past the huge vanity that separates my cluttered sink.
All I want to do is run to Mikey's room and down his whole bottle of Xanax. Yet, I can't bring myself to move from the tile to the carpet of my bedroom. All I can manage is to stand there motionless, as I leer at my huge burgundy bed in front of me. My mind tries to tell me that it looks so inviting. As if I could crawl in, and wake up to Mikey's asking, "Mother, I would function better, and with greater morale, if you would please come watch Star Trek with me at this time."
I loved the mornings he felt so much himself, so happy and without the nagging suffering of his mind. Those were the times that he could make us breakfast, he would clean the house with such precision and glee. I would wake up to him simply wanting to share what made him feel happiest.
I hate myself for the times I responded poorly, all due to my selfish frustration of desiring to be left alone to rest. I then realize I am holding Mikey's bottle of Xanax in my left hand.
The bottle's top is in my right, and I have no idea when I got to his room. I had to have come through the hall from my mine, slowly stumbling into his, before going into his nightstand, all without realizing it... I stare intently at the open bottle, "What point is their without taking care of my baby..." I open the bottle beginning to stare at its contents when, I see from the corner of my eye, his special cannabis vaporizer. It was decked out in Star Trek stickers, that medicine and that special device made him the bouncy joy he was becoming. He kept saying, "It is a standard Starfleet medical device, for Vulcans with an extraordinary difficulty controlling their emotions."
I stare around the room seeing all his prop Phasers, his figures of Spock, Picard, Data, Worf, and the place where his favorite figure should be. The one he took everywhere, the one that reminded him how to control his overwhelming emotions... I dump the pills into my hand, bringing them to my tear-stained mouth. I see the image of how he lit up the first time he saw Star Trek, how he came out of his shell at his favorite place in the world, the yearly Star Trek Convention in Las Vegas.
I looked at the poster he had pinned to his door along with our tickets, it was only two weeks away. He counted down the days to that event, like a child counts down to Christmas.
Except he was not excited for gifts, he was overjoyed that he could be himself.
Everyone loved him there, I was so scared the first time we went, he hated being in public, but he said he had to meet Tim Russ. When he told me how he would be sure to behave himself, how he would rather silently suffer if it meant he could meet his hero.
I was filled with so much pride, he then said, "I can not allow the fear, I feel every day, to keep myself from knowing the triumph of success." He was finally learning to be happy, his entire childhood was numb, but his emotionless, zombie-like being was finally coming to life. My father kept telling me, never give up on him, protect him, and guide him to be as strong as I taught you to be. "Dad I need you now!" I scream pitifully knowing that no one can hear me, as I drop the pills and bottle to the wood-grained floor.
Then suddenly, I heard my father's voice clear as day, "Justice was not done, I wore that badge to save lives, not take them. He took a life out of fear, then justified it. They no longer take up the badge for the sake of human life, it is for glory, and glory alone my child." I walk back to my room and slowly, timidly, head for my walk-in closet.
"You know that justice was not done. You know what they have become, they are not the same as we once were. They think they are cowboys, and that they can justify taking any life, so long as they fear for their own." As I approach the back of the closet I reach for the top shelf, retrieving an old, dust-covered wooden case. "You fear for the lives of others, seek justice for the callous taking of life in the name of justice. You know it to be just, my sweet Pamela."
I knell down cautiously and open the case taking my father's Colt 1911. I feel the roughness of the rosewood grip on the pistol, the weight of the tool reminds me of the responsibility that it carries.
I grab a grey shirt, my jeans, black converse, and my black hoodie, I place the pistol on top and grab the box of bullets from the case. I head to my bed and set the items down, first dressing, before removing the magazine and then striping the pistol down. I look at the slide, frame, and magazine, still clean all these years after I went with Dad to the range that last time... I put the gun back together, and rack the slide several times ensuring the action is smooth, before loading the magazine with seven forty-five caliber rounds. I tuck the gun in the back of my waistband before I zip up my hoodie and head down the hall and stairway.
I take a look at all the paintings, posters, and pictures that Mikey had helped choose, and place throughout our home. He somehow always knew the perfect placement for everything. I take a last look at a photo of my Father, Mikey and Me at the Star Trek convention. Dad and I were dressed as Klingons, and Mikey was of course dressed as Commander Tuvok.
I then head through the door to the garage and get in my silver Dodge Challenger, I take out my phone as I buckle up, and search Facebook for Sonny Daniels. I scroll through various profiles before seeing the face of the man who killed my son. I click on his profile and then notice that his phone had made auto-posts, checking him in everywhere he went. I realize he just was checked in at Coit Tower, "Only a short drive away." I hit the garage door opener put my hoodie up, and then peel out nearly hitting several passing cars as I race for my son's killer. Before I even can realize it, I am driving up the winding road to Coit Tower and as I draw closer, I see the man who took my son, sitting in front of the Statue of Columbus, staring at the Tower. I slam on the breaks and hop out of the car taking the pistol in hand, aiming at the beast before me as I walk with great haste towards him. "What the fuck!" He screams with panic seeing the black-clad figure approaching him, he appears to see me as if I am the Grim Reaper, maybe I am.
"You know what the fuck this is, you KILLED MY SON!" My voice started calm, audible, but before I knew it, I was screaming with such anger that my body began to shake. I march towards the man who attempts to stand, before I shout while aiming at his face, "ON YOUR FUCKING KNEES!" I finally am inches away from the monster who stole the light from my life. I look him in his watering eyes as I place the barrel to his temple, I ask him, "What gives you the right to take a life!" I ram the barrel against his skull as I shout, "YOUR JOB IS TO SAVE LIVES NOT TAKE THEM, YOUR LIFE IS NOT THE ONE YOUR OUT TO SAVE!" I realize as I finish screaming, that a few people had been there, and were now screaming and scattering in all directions. I don't care, I keep screaming the truth at the monster's face.
"YOU KILLED AN INNOCENT, ALL BECAUSE YOU WERE TOO CARELESS AND AFRAID TO UNDERSTAND SOMEONE DIFFERENT!" I continue to scream despite the fact that I was starting to lose my voice, and totally ignore the sight of the people I frightened into fleeing. "HE WAS THE LIFE YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO PROTECT!" My voice is nearly gone, it is as low as a whisper as I try to horsely scream, "NOW I AM GOING TO PROTECT THE LIVES OF OTHERS!" I try to pull the trigger on my father's pistol, then it hits me, Mikey's voice comes in clear as a bell.
"There is no logic in this Mother, do not let something so powerful as love, turn to something as dangerous as hatred." I drop to my knees, allowing the pistol to slip from my fingers, dropping with a heavy thud between Daniels and me.
"Miss, I should have died today, if I could trade places, I would..." I see the broken woman look up at me with the Tower looming behind her, she was barely able to speak, "He would never be in a position to take a life, he would have died first. Killing, even to save a life, for him was not possible. He would not even kill a dangerous insect, like you..." Without warning, I hear the sound of a single gunshot. I bear witness to the gruesome sight of the woman's throat exploding, with blood bursting forth, spattering my face and body.
My mind goes quiet, I reach for the pistol at my feet, grasping it firmly as I stand and whip to the right aiming for the shooter. I am then struck as if by lighting, seeing another officer grinning, gun drawn, and still smoking as he then aims for me. "Put the gun down Officer Daniels, we got the bitch." He laughs, and then I know what I must do... As this monster is more than capable of taking a life for no reason... Without remorse...
My aim steadies, I lock eyes with the officer, I see no fear in his, only joy. I then make the first truly confident decision of my life, the first choice I know to be right. I pull the trigger rapidly, firing upon the officer who just shot an innocent woman. While blue and red lights illuminate the roadway, as I hear sirens blare, I stare on as the seven rounds I emptied strike the Officer dead center. One after another they pelt his chest, causing blood to erupt and spray throughout the air. I watch the officer fall face-first to the ground, as blood begins to pool, I then slowly watch the sunset while patrol units start to arrive...
I hate myself for the times I responded poorly, all due to my selfish frustration of desiring to be left alone to rest. I then realize I am holding Mikey's bottle of Xanax in my left hand.
The bottle's top is in my right, and I have no idea when I got to his room. I had to have come through the hall from my mine, slowly stumbling into his, before going into his nightstand, all without realizing it... I stare intently at the open bottle, "What point is their without taking care of my baby..." I open the bottle beginning to stare at its contents when, I see from the corner of my eye, his special cannabis vaporizer. It was decked out in Star Trek stickers, that medicine and that special device made him the bouncy joy he was becoming. He kept saying, "It is a standard Starfleet medical device, for Vulcans with an extraordinary difficulty controlling their emotions."
I stare around the room seeing all his prop Phasers, his figures of Spock, Picard, Data, Worf, and the place where his favorite figure should be. The one he took everywhere, the one that reminded him how to control his overwhelming emotions... I dump the pills into my hand, bringing them to my tear-stained mouth. I see the image of how he lit up the first time he saw Star Trek, how he came out of his shell at his favorite place in the world, the yearly Star Trek Convention in Las Vegas.
I looked at the poster he had pinned to his door along with our tickets, it was only two weeks away. He counted down the days to that event, like a child counts down to Christmas.
Except he was not excited for gifts, he was overjoyed that he could be himself.
Everyone loved him there, I was so scared the first time we went, he hated being in public, but he said he had to meet Tim Russ. When he told me how he would be sure to behave himself, how he would rather silently suffer if it meant he could meet his hero.
I was filled with so much pride, he then said, "I can not allow the fear, I feel every day, to keep myself from knowing the triumph of success." He was finally learning to be happy, his entire childhood was numb, but his emotionless, zombie-like being was finally coming to life. My father kept telling me, never give up on him, protect him, and guide him to be as strong as I taught you to be. "Dad I need you now!" I scream pitifully knowing that no one can hear me, as I drop the pills and bottle to the wood-grained floor.
Then suddenly, I heard my father's voice clear as day, "Justice was not done, I wore that badge to save lives, not take them. He took a life out of fear, then justified it. They no longer take up the badge for the sake of human life, it is for glory, and glory alone my child." I walk back to my room and slowly, timidly, head for my walk-in closet.
"You know that justice was not done. You know what they have become, they are not the same as we once were. They think they are cowboys, and that they can justify taking any life, so long as they fear for their own." As I approach the back of the closet I reach for the top shelf, retrieving an old, dust-covered wooden case. "You fear for the lives of others, seek justice for the callous taking of life in the name of justice. You know it to be just, my sweet Pamela."
I knell down cautiously and open the case taking my father's Colt 1911. I feel the roughness of the rosewood grip on the pistol, the weight of the tool reminds me of the responsibility that it carries.
I grab a grey shirt, my jeans, black converse, and my black hoodie, I place the pistol on top and grab the box of bullets from the case. I head to my bed and set the items down, first dressing, before removing the magazine and then striping the pistol down. I look at the slide, frame, and magazine, still clean all these years after I went with Dad to the range that last time... I put the gun back together, and rack the slide several times ensuring the action is smooth, before loading the magazine with seven forty-five caliber rounds. I tuck the gun in the back of my waistband before I zip up my hoodie and head down the hall and stairway.
I take a look at all the paintings, posters, and pictures that Mikey had helped choose, and place throughout our home. He somehow always knew the perfect placement for everything. I take a last look at a photo of my Father, Mikey and Me at the Star Trek convention. Dad and I were dressed as Klingons, and Mikey was of course dressed as Commander Tuvok.
I then head through the door to the garage and get in my silver Dodge Challenger, I take out my phone as I buckle up, and search Facebook for Sonny Daniels. I scroll through various profiles before seeing the face of the man who killed my son. I click on his profile and then notice that his phone had made auto-posts, checking him in everywhere he went. I realize he just was checked in at Coit Tower, "Only a short drive away." I hit the garage door opener put my hoodie up, and then peel out nearly hitting several passing cars as I race for my son's killer. Before I even can realize it, I am driving up the winding road to Coit Tower and as I draw closer, I see the man who took my son, sitting in front of the Statue of Columbus, staring at the Tower. I slam on the breaks and hop out of the car taking the pistol in hand, aiming at the beast before me as I walk with great haste towards him. "What the fuck!" He screams with panic seeing the black-clad figure approaching him, he appears to see me as if I am the Grim Reaper, maybe I am.
"You know what the fuck this is, you KILLED MY SON!" My voice started calm, audible, but before I knew it, I was screaming with such anger that my body began to shake. I march towards the man who attempts to stand, before I shout while aiming at his face, "ON YOUR FUCKING KNEES!" I finally am inches away from the monster who stole the light from my life. I look him in his watering eyes as I place the barrel to his temple, I ask him, "What gives you the right to take a life!" I ram the barrel against his skull as I shout, "YOUR JOB IS TO SAVE LIVES NOT TAKE THEM, YOUR LIFE IS NOT THE ONE YOUR OUT TO SAVE!" I realize as I finish screaming, that a few people had been there, and were now screaming and scattering in all directions. I don't care, I keep screaming the truth at the monster's face.
"YOU KILLED AN INNOCENT, ALL BECAUSE YOU WERE TOO CARELESS AND AFRAID TO UNDERSTAND SOMEONE DIFFERENT!" I continue to scream despite the fact that I was starting to lose my voice, and totally ignore the sight of the people I frightened into fleeing. "HE WAS THE LIFE YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO PROTECT!" My voice is nearly gone, it is as low as a whisper as I try to horsely scream, "NOW I AM GOING TO PROTECT THE LIVES OF OTHERS!" I try to pull the trigger on my father's pistol, then it hits me, Mikey's voice comes in clear as a bell.
"There is no logic in this Mother, do not let something so powerful as love, turn to something as dangerous as hatred." I drop to my knees, allowing the pistol to slip from my fingers, dropping with a heavy thud between Daniels and me.
"Miss, I should have died today, if I could trade places, I would..." I see the broken woman look up at me with the Tower looming behind her, she was barely able to speak, "He would never be in a position to take a life, he would have died first. Killing, even to save a life, for him was not possible. He would not even kill a dangerous insect, like you..." Without warning, I hear the sound of a single gunshot. I bear witness to the gruesome sight of the woman's throat exploding, with blood bursting forth, spattering my face and body.
My mind goes quiet, I reach for the pistol at my feet, grasping it firmly as I stand and whip to the right aiming for the shooter. I am then struck as if by lighting, seeing another officer grinning, gun drawn, and still smoking as he then aims for me. "Put the gun down Officer Daniels, we got the bitch." He laughs, and then I know what I must do... As this monster is more than capable of taking a life for no reason... Without remorse...
My aim steadies, I lock eyes with the officer, I see no fear in his, only joy. I then make the first truly confident decision of my life, the first choice I know to be right. I pull the trigger rapidly, firing upon the officer who just shot an innocent woman. While blue and red lights illuminate the roadway, as I hear sirens blare, I stare on as the seven rounds I emptied strike the Officer dead center. One after another they pelt his chest, causing blood to erupt and spray throughout the air. I watch the officer fall face-first to the ground, as blood begins to pool, I then slowly watch the sunset while patrol units start to arrive...
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