Last night, I was on my way up and down (by stairs) this office building when I realized I forgot my shoes. So I had to go back to get them. I took the elevator. It stopped on a floor but no one got on. As the doors were closing, a man with glasses was jogging for the elevator but I just stood and watched as the doors closed. He squeezed his arm inside, just as the doors were about to closed. In his hand was a gun.
The doors opened and he came inside and aimed at me. I felt a sinking feeling, and I knew I was going to die. As he shot me twice, I ran at him. I felt the bullets hit my side, but tried to ignore the pain as I wrestled the gun from him. Now that I had the gun, I didn’t know what to do. I wondered if I should kill him before he killed me, and ended up shooting him in the cheek.
I think it was only then that I called out for help and some people in the nearby offices rushed over. With my last breaths, I told the woman attending to me who was pressing down on my wound to tell Kemuel Wong that I loved him. She told me not to speak and that I would make it, but I told her to tell him anyway.
I ended up surviving and some other stuff happened, but when I woke up, it struck me how I did what I’ve always thought I would do with my dying breath. I wanted to cry.
aaron's random musings 