Chapter 10
Chapter 10
Journal Entry for Tuesday November 18, 1997
Yesterday was the first day of the trial. I was there, seeing as how I don't have school. I think that the evidence that Assistant DA Early presented was very damning against the two men who killed my father. (Their names are Joakim Paris and Bill Butts). I just hope the jury feels the same way.
This is the third day in a row I've woken up with a headache. It's just getting ridiculous. At this rate, I'm gonna need more amitriptyline from my damn psychiatrist. Actually, as much as I've taken, it's a miracle that I still wake up in the morning.
I've also noticed that my hair's starting to fall out because of the constant level of stress in my life. Great. Now I'll be fatherless, insane, having migraines everyday, and bald. Life is a bitch.
Maybe I'll write a little more later.
A/N: This part of the chapter takes place on the day of November 19. It's at the trial, and is from Randy's POV. Enjoy.
The prosecution and the defense have just made their closing statements to the jury. The judge is in the middle of addressing them when I notice a security guard in the back of the court go for his gun. All of a sudden, shots ring out. The man keeps firing as everyone ducks down. I see someone on the jury get shot in the chest, and the judge takes a bullet to his hand. Both drop down instantly.
Next I hear the sound get louder. The shooter must be getting closer to me. Then I feel the worst pain I've ever felt in my entire life. I put my hand up to my forehead. The last thing I feel is blood pouring out of the direct center of my head.
A/N: This is now from Jill's POV. (Yes, I know that readers aren't crazy about Jill's POV, but I need to do this so the rest of the story will make sense).
I hear the shooting getting closer. I'm sitting right next to Randy, so it's the same horrifying type of experience he's going through.
Then I see Randy fall limp to the ground. Blood is covering his face. I glance around frantically, but can't find the bullet. Maybe it's just hidden in a pool of blood. I can hope, right?
Finally! I see another (hopefully a real) security guard come running in. He shoots the dirty cop in the foot, and then runs over to arrest the other guard.
Next I hear sirens wailing in the distance. I stand up, and run over to the second guard.
'Please sir, you have to help. My son's over there, he got shot in the head. He's passed out, and he needs medical attention NOW!' I scream.
I know everyone thinks they need immediate medical attention if they've been hurt, but damn it, Randy really needs the medical attention.
The guard runs over to where we were sitting and checks Randy's vitals. He then gets the attention of the first set of paramedics to come in, and before I know it, Randy is being whisked off to the same hospital as he was a couple of months ago.
Later on at the hospital:
Randy isn't doing well. He's still in surgery to get the bullet removed. Apparently the bullet is in a very sensitive part of the brain. (That's all that the doctor said). If the surgeons make one wrong move, it could have "serious repercussions" according to the Chief of Emergency Medicine.
I can't believe that here my son is again, fighting for his life. Is this some kind of curse or something?
Ugh. Poor Randy. It's always been him to have the health problems. As a baby, he had colic, then a few years later we found out he had asthma. Then a couple of years ago, we had the whole cancer scare, and that's when we found out he has hypothyroidism.
This just feels like déjà vu. Here I am again, not knowing whether or not Randy will live to see tomorrow.
Maybe I should just calm down. It feels like I'm giving myself an ulcer over this. Oh man. This pain is getting worse. Oh shit. Now my left arm's hurting. Oh God, I can't be having a heart attack. I'm too young.
A/N: This last part is from the view of a doctor. Enjoy.
I'm standing at the nurse's station doing charts when I see a woman in chairs grimace. It looks like she's having severe pain, so I head over to her to see what's wrong. Then I see her start to clutch her left arm. Well, at this point it doesn't take an attending to figure out what's happening. She's having a heart attack.
'Somebody get a gurney' I yell.
I grab the nearest crash cart and try to resuscitate the woman. It doesn't work, so I charge the cart up to a higher voltage.
A/N: I'm good when it comes to cliffhangers, aren't I? I know I have several people's points of view in this chapter and I know some readers don't like that, but, hey I'm certainly fulfilling the angst genre I gave this story, right? And also, I know the shooting might seem a little farfetched, but they don't call it fan fiction for nothing. Please R&R. Thanks.
