Thanks for all the reviews so far! I'm going to try a little bit of a different style for the next few chapters! Let me know what you guys think! I hope you like it!
"I walked in first. Chris and I went around back, Sam and Traci went around front. I saw the gunman, he was pointing his weapon at the cashier. I told him to put the gun down." I said, and Frank looks at me intently, waiting for me to go on. He's staring at me. I feel like a suspect. Or a witness being scrutinized. I know it's procedure, but still. I take a deep breath. I don't really want to be doing this right now. I take another deep breath. Maybe that'll help. I look back at Frank, his eyes staring at me. Maybe not.
"Okay, so you told the gunman to put his gun down. Then what?" Frank asks me. Apparently he doesn't think I'm telling it fast enough. Or maybe he's just trying to help. I don't know.
"I told him we were police. I said 'Police, put the gun down now'. I told him to put his hands behind his head. But he didn't listen." I continue on. I'm trying to relive it. It feels like it happened only a few minutes ago. It feels like it happened in slow motion. But then it feels like it happened all too fast as well. I take another deep breath. I hope Frank doesn't notice how agitated I feel. But he is a police sergeant. He probably knew before we sat down. He's also my friend. He probably knew before he even asked for our statements.
Frank nods, but doesn't say anything. I take that as a sign to keep going.
"Chris walked in behind me. He was pointing his gun at the gunman too. I told the gunman to put his gun down again, and Sam and Traci walked in from the back. He still didn't listen to me, he was still pointing his gun at the cashier. So, I told him to put his gun down again. Sam and Traci were walking up behind the gunman, he didn't know they were there." I think back to the plan. Chris and I would come in the front, Sam and Traci from the back. They'd sneak up behind him. But did anyone clear the rest of the store? Did anyone look. I didn't. Not that well. I didn't even look.
"Okay, so you asked the gunman three times to put his gun down, and identified yourself as police?" Frank asked. I looked at him. Yes. That's what I did. I've been doing this job almost as long as he has, I know how to identify myself. Stupid questions. This is not what I need to be doing right now.
Frank caught on to my annoyance I think, because then he said. "I know, Oliver, I know. I know it's an annoying question, but I just have to make sure, for the record."
I just nod. Whatever. The record. Who cares about the record?
"So then what happened?" Frank asks. I sigh.
"Sam grabbed the gunman's hands from behind, put them behind his back. Then I heard Chris shout for someone else to put their gun down. I turned around and" I needed to stop. Chris got shot. I've been playing it over and over in my head since we got to the hospital, but speaking out loud, that was hard. I couldn't speak. I wanted to, but it was like my voice wouldn't let me. I looked at Frank quickly. I sighed.
"and Chris was pointing his gun at this second suspect. The guy raised his gun and pointed it at Sam. Sam was handcuffing the other guy. He didn't see the second guy. It all happened so fast. But Chris jumped in front of the gun. He knew Sam didn't see it." My voice is getting quiet. I don't like the way it sounds. Quiet and soft and wavering. I don't like it. It scares me when it does that. Because I don't really know how to make it not sound like that. I wonder if Frank notices. If he does, he doesn't say. After all, he knows that I'm trying to hide it.
"So Chris tried to prevent Sam from being shot" Frank asks. That's exactly what Chris did.
"Yes" I say. I'm not sure if I can say anything else. I'm afraid my voice might break if I keep speaking. It's already wavering.
"What happened next, Oliver? Do you want a few minutes?" Franks asks. Does he notice that my voice is about to break? Am I not hiding it well? What does it sound like to him? What does he mean?
I shake my head quickly. For a second I think taking a break might help, but then I think about having to talk about it again after taking a break, and I think that that would be harder than just telling him now. So, I think it'd be best to just get it over with now. "I'm alright" That's a lie. I'm not alright. But I will keep telling Frank what happened. He needs to know and I need to tell him before my voice breaks, I don't know how much longer I'll be able to prevent it from breaking, and it's already wavering.
"I remember Chris yelling to Sam. 'Sir'. Chris yelled 'Sir' to Sam" I can't help but smile a little and laugh. Chris called Sam sir. The kid was so polite. And of all people, Sam? He calls Sam sir? I laugh again.
"Sir?" Frank says, and I can tell he's smiling. "He called him sir?"
"Yea, he's very polite that kid" I say, laughing a little myself. But then I stop. He's only twenty four. He is just a kid. He's only a kid. Chris is only twenty four and he lay in a hospital, maybe not even going to make it. I sigh again. He's only a kid. He's only twenty four. Suddenly Chris calling Sam "Sir" isn't so funny. I rub my hands over my face, rub them over my eyes as if it will take back what I saw.
I look at Frank a few seconds later, because he still hasn't said anything. From the look on his face I know he's thinking the same thing. It's a sort of look, a look of understanding that you get from working with someone, from being friends with someone from years. He offers me a nod. And I nod back, or I think I do. I'm not sure.
"I know. I know, Oliver. But Chris will be okay. He'll be alright. I think Chris will be okay." Frank says. Frank's voice isn't wavering, no, he's had training for that. He's the sergeant, there can't be any detection in his voice. But in his eyes, that's different. I can tell he's feeling exactly how I'm feeling. Except maybe not as guilty. I am feeling extremely guilty. It's my fault. I could have done something.
I can tell from Frank's face that he knows how I'm feeling. And I know him well enough to know that he'll try to convince me it wasn't my fault. I don't want to hear that right now. I don't want him to try to make me feel better about it. I want him to understand what I'm feeling. But then I don't. I don't want to feel what I'm feeling, after all it's my fault that a rookie got shot. So, I try to convince him not to persuade me, and I give him a look.
"Frank, don't-" That's all I get out before he starts talking and cuts me off. He raises his hands and motions for me to stop. For some reason I do. I don't know why.
"Oliver, listen to me now." Frank starts and the sternness in his voice is noticeable. More noticeable than when he is reprimanding officers for screwing up. But, not as harsh. Stern, but kind.
"This was not your fault. Chris was not shot because of you. Chris was shot because of the suspect who shot him. That's whose fault this is. Not yours. You had you're weapon drawn on the other suspect. He saw another one. You couldn't have your gun on two suspects at once. Don't tell yourself this is your fault."
I shrug. I want to believe him. It seems to make sense, but no, its not. I could have done something. I could have done something else. If I had turned around a second sooner, or seen the suspect when I walked in, or cleared the rest of the room and let Chris keep his gun trained on the suspect with the cashier, then maybe I would have seen the other suspect, maybe he wouldn't have shot.
"I can't do that" I say quietly. Again, my voice is wavering, it's scary. Maybe that's why I'm talking so quietly. I don't want to hear the wavering. It's scary.
"I know that's it hard-" Frank starts to say, but I cut him off.
"No, you don't understand. I was there. I saw Chris get shot. I can't just forget about it, not think about it, not think about what I could have done differently, or could have done better. I saw him laying there on the floor, I saw him spitting up his own blood when he coughed, I saw the look on his face when he saw the blood on his hands, I heard him, I held his head on my lap while the paramedics came. I can't just not think about it Frank." Now my voice is anything but quiet. I don't know where it suddenly was able to get like this, and this is scaring me as well. I shrug, look down at the ground quickly, then back to Frank, shrugging. "I'm sorry"
"Don't apologize" Frank said. "You're entitled to be angry"
I sit there staring at my hands, the blood stains on my hands, the turn them over and notice more on the back. I can't stop looking at them. All I can think about is Chris. I can see his face looking at me, coughing, trying to ask me something. I can see him struggling trying to sit up, and the look on his face when he notices how badly he's bleeding. I can hear Chris's raspy attempts to breath and choking. I can hear Chris gasping at the sight of his own injuries and scared admitting he couldn't feel his leg.
I think about how he's only twenty four years old. How he's only a rookie. How he's so polite. How he's such a good guy. I think about how he might not make it.
Then I feel something. Something is running down my face. A tear is sliding down my cheek. First there is just one, but then there are more. I don't know how to control it. And, I don't even wipe them away. I don't really care. Then there is something touching my shoulder. I look up and see Frank's hand on my shoulder, and I look at his eyes. There's a tear there too. My shoulders start to shake. I'm crying even more. I look back to Frank. The tear in his eye is falling down his cheek too.
Thanks for reading, please review! Let me know what you think, please! Do you guys like it so far? How do you think things are going to happen? And, do you like the style of this chapter from Oliver's point of view? Please let me know! Thanks!