Work was really good today. I had fun. My coworkers and I got a lot of work done today and may have been able to nick some stuff off of tomorrows work. We all worked with awesome, classic rock music. We all didn’t mind humming along and still running around to get the job done. We made phone calls and took care of our customers. We did really good today.
The store gave all the workers free food. I took some and had to leave to go back to work. I am not allowed to eat on the floor but wanted that cookie. A vendor nearby had the same color shirt I was wearing and I walked up next to him. I asked plain and simple if I could use him to hide from the store owners. He laughed and was my watch out. I had never seen the guy before and wasn’t near him for more than three minutes. He did a good job, I finished my cookie without getting in trouble.
It was a good day.
Went shopping for the coming week, ya know. Got some breakfast food. I got some bacon! I got random things. Got ready to go catch the bus to go home. Got on. I was warm. No one talked to me. I had all my things gathered and I was ready to go.
But the bus wasn’t moving. Something was wrong.
A guy a seat ahead of me and the other side was rummaging through his bag and a girl behind me was crying, her hand covering her mouth. I honestly didn’t get what was going on at first. The bus driver didn’t get out from behind his bullet-proof door attached to his seat and then used the intercom.
“Weapons are illegal on this form of transportation. You need to get off or the police will be here to escort you off.”
Seeing the flash of the handgun into his bag as he started screaming, I thought of all the things I wouldn’t get to do with my family. How I didn’t get the chance to tell them I loved them an hour ago. How I didn’t get to really go swimming this summer and get a stupid sunburn because I stupidly didn’t put enough sunscreen on. I thought about my boyfriend. He writes me an email almost every day and expects one back. I wouldn’t be able to and he would probably hear from his mother. I thought about his mom and how close we have gotten.
In the past week, there have been five more shootings. I didn’t want to be apart of those numbers. Please God, don’t make me that number. I started praying, tears rolling down my face. I don’t want to die.
The fight continued until the man got off.
I made it home and I am safe. All of this happened and the thing taught me something very sad. My boyfriend is out there, somewhere only God knows, to save us from the bad guys. YET we have no regrets being the bad guys to each other. This scares me almost more than knowing what my sailor does.
I was once told by a shipmate of my man’s…. “we are safer being deployed than you are as a civilian on the streets these days”. I brushed it off until today.
PLEASE STOP THE HATE AND LOWER THOSE NUMBERS
WHATEVER IT IS THAT MAKES YOU OR YOUR FRIEND WANT TO DO THIS, PLEASE DON’T. PLEASE STOP AND THINK ABOUT FAMILY, YOURS AND EVERYONE ELSES.
PLEASE HELP BE THE CHANGE EVERYONE TALKS ABOUT.