"People can't bear to see the abyss and abandon people in it... Even when they are also in the dark... To be fair I don't think I could handle being his friend either. But he would probably run away from me first. Maybe he's super positive and appreciate life now..."
Yeah. I was pretty young, in trouble with the law, and incarcerated in a youth facility on State Hospital grounds. He was one of the State Hospital inmates.
Every time I think about how he effected me, I'd feel a deep hole inside me, I'd almost feel bad about not trying to help him out more, or something. Finally, I just learned to not think about it, at all.
Funny, I haven't thought or told anyone about that guy for decades.
How horrifying. Why do you think she did it for attention? People said that about me when I called for help about physical pain so it hurts me to read it. I don't think if she wanted attention she would have went to a bar to show her boobs. Or at least would have tried some harmless pills. When a woman threw something as brutal as a shotgun she means it. To pull the trigger with her toes must have been really desperate... She was not able to pull the trigger manually... But really wanted to. I feel like I should say that I'm sorry that she survived... unless she's happy...
"I don't think if she wanted attention she would have went to a bar to show her boobs. Or at least would have tried some harmless pills."
It's funny you say that. She was a dancer in a "gentlemens" club, at the time. And a drug addict... we both were.
I was in my 20's, and after working for a few years I decided working was for suckers. I saved up a few paychecks, bought quantity, and started a career as a low-life poison dealer.
She was a beautiful brunette bi-sexual exhibitionist. It was a match made in heaven, until it wasn't.
Flash forward a few years, I've been clean (but still dealing) for about eight months. I bought a house in a small town with an acre and a half yard, and started building it up. In my mind, we were going to settle down, try to start a family. We had money, a home... everything. Apparently that wasn't what was in her mind, at all. She would never get clean, never wanted to leave the hustle life.
She wanted my attention.
I had my bag over my shoulder, had just left the bedroom and was halfway down the hall when I heard the shot. I dropped everything and ran back, finding her in the closet . At first, I thought she had just fired into the wall, or something. She would do that sometimes, whenever she got mad at me. Then I saw the hole in her nightgown, and the blood.
She didn't use a shotgun, she used a .22 LR semi-auto rifle. If it had been a shotgun, there would have been no way to keep her from bleeding out in time for the paramedics to arrive.
I spent the next 12 or so hours being grilled by the cops, of course they thought I shot her. They didn't bother to check either one of us for powder residue... it was cut and dried in their minds because of the angle of entry.
She later told me they were waiting in her hospital room, and might even have woke her from the anesthesia.
She said they were telling her what happened. She said she had to repeat herself again and again, for over an hour, still groggy from the surgery.
I was released in the early afternoon and walked from the jail to a bar I liked to frequent back before I got clean. The bartender there always had a crush on me (or my dope) and took pity on me, and treated my sorrows like only a woman can.
I didn't see another sober night for at least six months.
The good thing is, the next time I packed up to leave I had less than half the stuff to pack, in that house we had shared... her folks came and took away most of what the police left (which wasn't much).
Somehow, the house I'd bought that represented all the dreams I had burned down. I headed for the coast, and the state sold the land the house had been on for back taxes a few years later from the county courthouse steps.
I've spoken to her a few times, over the years. She caught a case for two ounces of H up in Idaho a few years later, but beat it by framing some poor 19 year old boy she had on the hook. She later settled down and married a fellow, had a few kids. They now live about an hours' drive from where the house intended for us once was. I have no idea how much he knows about her past. It's certainly not my place to tell him.
I hope she's happy. I'll never speak to her again, after what she did to that kid up in Idaho. Told her that then, too.
Sometimes I'll check around online to see if she's still alive and kickin'. She seems to be.
