june 19 1990
Martin Brandell by now had become accustom to his father coming home drunk and ready to destroy something. He had even become used to the weekly beatings he had ben receiving over the past few months. These attacks however had increased in volatility over the past month. A few days ago his best friend Ray whom was five years older than him had even given him a 38 as he was concerned for his friends well-being.
However Marty never thought it would get to the level in which he had to use that gun. but there he was in his old beat up la apartment beaten black and blue by the one man who was supposed to protect him laying beside his unconscious mother. While his father was in a drunken somewhat unaware state with a knife in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other in this moment he knew he was his mothers and his only way to get out alive and he would do whatever it takes to get them both out alive. With this in mind he took out his gun from its hiding place and fired two wild shots hoping that one hit him. as he was getting out of his trance he noticed that he did in fact hit his father once in the arm and another time in his leg. Marty immediately aware of his transgressions then broke down and cried. through the tears he saw the sirens approaching the house and fear rushed throughout his body. For sure Marty thought that they would send him to juvi and ultimately go to prison. Boy was he wrong.
'Hey little guy are you all right' said the friendly police officer as he removed the gun that was still in his small hands.
'No, am i going to jail'? he said in a weak voice and started to softly cry as the police officer embraced him in a hug
'You aren't going to jail little man but i will need to take you to the hospital to get checked out'
'Am i gonna get beat-ed up again?' the young boy asked
'Not if i could help it' he said as the kind eleven year old was loaded into an ambulance
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