Chapter 8 What Is This Feeling?
Mary couldn't believe what had just happened. The bullet shot right into Joey's arm and he lay unconscious. She ran over to him, hysterically crying. She bent down to hug him, not caring about the bright red, that spread across the floor and his body. "Joey please! You can make it through."
"Get up and stop it!" Mary did as she was told. She walked over to Kevin and slapped him across the face.
"You'll regret that!" Kevin slapped her across her face, before, pushing her on the floor and kicking her stomach. She screamed in pain, but that wasn't the worst part. He split open the side of her stomach, causing blood to spill out everywhere. The gash was extremely deep and from mid way on her stomach, down to her hip. She tried to hold in her scream, and instead cried even more.
Kevin pulled Mary's sweatshirt off and unbuttoned her shorts. That was the farthest he had gotten before policemen, firemen, and paramedics all came in. The held a gun up to him, but he did the same, except he held it to Mary.
"Get out of here or I'll shoot her. I've done it to him." Threatened Kevin. They had limited time to think before Mary and Joey bled to death, if Joey hadn't already. They had left the house, risking both of their lives. They went outside and discussed a plan. They came up with one but didn't know if it would work.
They did not close the door all the way, before. They left it open a crack, so they could sneak in quietly and see what's going on inside.
Kevin suddenly heard a boom, coming from the window. He got off of the terrified Mary, who was now left in her bra and shorts, and went over to the window. He looked out side for a minute and didn't see anything. While he was looking he was pushed to the ground with handcuffs around his arms, being held down by a strong ma, and had a gun pointed to his head. They took him away and put Joey into the ambulance. Mary quickly sat up and looked around.
"Miss, you must come into the ambulance." An officer demanded.
Mary shook her head. "Please don't make me go. I'm alright."
"Miss, you're bleeding an awful lot, and there is a lot of blood on the floor of where you were." He insisted. Mary's eyes rolled to the back of her head, for she had passed out. "Help!" He screamed, and paramedics rushed over, and took her to the truck. Everyone was noted about what happened.
"Dustin I have to go to her house and look in her journal. I have to know how long this was going on for!" Tami yelled.
"Ok fine baby. Just let me drive, I don't want you driving, you're really upset." He drove to Mary's house but decided to wait in the car. Tami got out and rang the bell; nobody answered. She pulled a key out of her purse and opened the door. She ran up into Mary's room and opened her diary, which was under her pillow. A paper, which read 25/25 on top and a little note, written by a teacher fell out. It read…
Ethics vary with environment, circumstances, and culture. In my own life, ethics play a major role. Whether it was the way I was raised, the experiences I've had, or just my outlook on the world and the way things should be. My biggest aspects of ethics include being honest, compassionate, and looking for the best and beauty in everyone.
I've been told repeatedly that I trust people too easily, but I find that when I put my faith and trust in people when others would not dare to, they almost never betray me. I would hope that people would put that same faith in me. Trust and honesty is an investment you put in people; if you build enough trust in them and show yourself to be honest, they will do the same in you. I value honesty so much, and it is an expectation I have of myself. I will put honesty before the risk of humiliation, before selfishness, and before anything less worthy of the Gospel truth. Even in being honest and trustworthy, I do not come off cold and heartless. Compassion and honesty go hand in hand, if enough of each is put into every situation. I admire those who trust and are trustworthy.
Compassion is the greatest forms of love humans have to offer. According to Webster's Dictionary, compassion means a feeling of sympathy for another's misfortune. My definition of compassion is forgiving, loving, helping, leading, and showing mercy for others. I have this theory that if one person can go out of their way to show compassion, then it will start a chain reaction of the same. People will never know how far a little kindness can go.
It wasn't until recently that I learned that the first, the second, and the third impressions can be deceitful of what kind of person someone is. For example, imagine you had just met someone, and you speak with them three times on brief everyday conversations. They come off as harsh, rude, stubborn, and an ignorant person. You base your judgment on just these three encounters. Let me ask you something…did you ever ask them what their goal in life is, what kind of past they came from, did they experience love, did they experience hurt, did you look into their soul and not just their appearance? Until you know them and not just their "type," you have no right to shun them. You have not looked for their beauty, their good. You have not seen the light in their eyes. Look hard enough and you always find a light, and you can even help it grow, if you don't walk away from those three impressions first.
I know that my codes of life may be different from yours, but how do you know that trust, compassion, and beauty will not make this world a better place to be in and this life a better one to live? My codes may seem like a fantasy that can never be reached, but test them for yourself, and see the kind of effect they have in the lives of people around you. You just may start a chain reaction.
A tear fell onto Mary's essay. Tami flipped through her journal and saw a page that said she was tired of getting beat. She had also written "Why is it so hard for people to show kindness?"
Tami kept flipping and came across a page that said, "Today I was just beat by Kevin." The date on top read a date from two months ago. Tami couldn't read any longer. She put her diary down, took the essay and went outside back into the car. She got in and handed the essay to Dustin.
"What's this?" He asked.
"An essay" Tami sobbed. "Mary wrote it for English, read it."
Dustin read the essay and couldn't believe it. Out of everything she's been through she thinks everyone is kind. "Wow," was all Dustin had to say. He pulled out of the driveway and drove to the hospital. They all waited in the waiting room in despair.
Rachel Scott, who was the first person killed at columbine high school, inspired me. I wrote this chapter in memory of her. Although I knew nothing about her, until we had a presentation at my school last week, she was an amazing person. She wrote that essay, a few days before she got shot. If you'd like to learn more about this, go to . Anyway I'd like to thank my reviewers. Review to see more!
Love BellaRose55
P.S. I don't own Rachel Scott or her essay.