Unexpected
Rene Scott
ENG/220
March 30, 2015

Unexpected

Being held at gunpoint changed my life in a way that I would have never expected. Never in my life, would I have thought that I would be a victim of attempted robbery, and witness my boyfriend getting shot. Although he survived, this indecent has affected our lives tremendously.
In the summer of 2011, my boyfriend and I had been temporarily living with my brother and his girlfriend. The Apartment complex had poorly lit breezeways between each building, and there were very few street lights in the area. My boyfriend and I, accompanied by my brother and his girlfriend, were in the parking lot around 1:30 am smoking a cigarette. While we were talking amongst ourselves we notice someone approaching us in dark clothing. The young guy asked “can I have a cigarette?” I told him “no, because this is my last one.” Besides, he looked to young, in my opinion. Shortly after, three men, all dressed in dark clothing started to emerge from three different breeze ways surrounding us. Two of the men pulled out guns and said “Give us everything you have, I want your car keys too.” Immediately I began crying hysterically, the terror that I was experiencing was unreal. “I could die today”, I thought to myself. I had just purchased my car, not even 2 months ago. I tried to plead with the man. “Please don’t take my car!” I said, startled by my own resistance. When the second mugger pointed the gun in my face my boyfriend fought back, knocking the gun out of his hand. My brother and his girlfriend were on the other side of the car. They were told to lay on the ground. When my brother saw that my boyfriend and I were resisting, he started to fight back as well. Out of fear the other crook, shot twice in the air. The four of us started to scurry. Not wanting us to get away, and my boyfriend being the only one still in close range, second crook then aimed his gun at my boyfriend’s face, and pulled the trigger. The crooks ran off in a cowardly, hurry having gained nothing but an expired ID, and an empty wallet. The sound of that shot was deafening, the loud pop left my ears ringing for quite some time. When I looked down at the pavement and saw all of the blood, I went into panic mode; my boyfriend was lying on the ground gasping for air. He had been shot in the face. My brother’s girlfriend frantically called 911.

It seemed like eternity, before any neighbors opened their door and the ambulance arrived, followed by police and detectives. In all actuality we waited about 20 minutes. This event had been so traumatic for me that I didn’t speak for a whole 2 days. If someone asked me a question I would just shake my head, or my brother would speak for me. I would just sit and stare, I