|
It started out an odd evening. Fireworks exploded over downtown for our 4th of July celebration. I was sitting in a park with a good friend, drinking PBR and wondering why at 23 years old fireworks just don’t have the same affect. Oh well, as we sat there we we’re approached by two cops that we had seen talking to other random people in the park. They were looking for a missing female that had disappeared about four hours earlier. And seeing as how we had just sat down we had nothing to say. The odd part was that most of the time cops will ID me if they see me drinking… especially in a fuckin’ park on the Fourth. Not today. They just walked away. When the fireworks ended I got into my car and headed to the bar. I had a few drinks with a few more friends and a co-worker of mine decided we should all go back to her house because her girlfriend is outta town. After party.
We got to her house at about midnight. Opened beers and brewed some coffee. We sat on her back porch talking, laughing and having a great time. Now just behind her there is an apartment complex that for some reason always seems to have a huge party goin’ on in it. Tonight was no exception. A whole shit load on people, a mixed bag of wannabe gangsters kept spilling out into the street, playing with there “tricked out” Hondas and blasting horrible rap music through the neighborhood. Well, it was a matter of time before something bad happened. A group of guys showed up and walk in. About twenty minutes later we heard a little bit of screaming but nothing that would be odd coming from a party full of guys that think they’re fuckin’ Tu-Pac. And I really do hate to stereotype these people and act like they have no worth in society. But for the most part… they fuckin’ don’t. They cause problems no matter where they go. They live the life of a stereotype. Why wouldn’t I want to stereotype them? And for the most part before last night I couldn’t give a flying fuck about them.
The argument got bigger. A few people came out to the street to talk. Now, you have to understand that we can see all of this and they know we are there. They waved. So, doin’ our best to ignore the rap video goin’ on in front of us we go back to talking… until
I looked up when the yelling got louder. Two of the men ran out the door and then the first shot was fired and the guy just went down. I didn’t see where it cam from. He was there… then he wasn’t. About seven more shot were fired. Both men laid dead under the street light in plain fuckin’ view of all of us sitting on the porch. I never saw who shot them. All I saw was the flash from the gun in the dark and two dead men. That’s all.
I stayed in my seat. Just stared. The shooter calming walked back into the house. Later to emerge with a girl on his arm. He got into his car and drove away. We called 911. They showed up and about 45 minutes later (no joke). Two men get shot in the street. You have five witness. You take your sweet ass time. Makes no sense to me. By the time the cops showed up everyone had left. The place was empty. And the two men… still under the street light. Okay, so I know you’re thinking why didn’t I or someone go help them. I don’t know. It didn’t even cross my mind.
I spent the next five hours telling my story. Sitting in the police station till six in the fuckin’ morning. I need coffee.
__________________
heavy is the head that wears the crown
|