Wednesday, December 26, 2012
All I can think about is my friend Joel. At a party we were at, we were all shot at, and he was killed. Throughout the ordeal, I ran from the gunman, ran desperately to find Joel’s lifeless body, and hid under a bed fearing for my life as i heard continual shots from the simi-automatic AK-47. Out of it all, what bothers me still the most were Joel’s dead eyes. When I hovered over him in shock, he was lying on his back on the ground. His brother pulled up his shirt revealing three bullet holes, two fatal. Up his neck and face was his skin that had attained a purple/blue color. His open mouth was full of blood. And his eyes were wide open.