There we were, standing face to face with the Devil himself. I lost all feeling in my legs, and collapsed to the floor. What were we going to do? We were alone. No one else was there to do anything. It was up to us. I couldn’t think straight. There were so many things running through my mind. Why did this happen to us? Why at this exact moment? I couldn’t wrap my head around it. There was absolutely no time for rationalizing. We needed to act quickly. I did all that I could, through the pain, and crying. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough. We had lost this battle, and there was no coming back. He was gone.

It was January, 3rd, 2012. The day seemed to go by slowly. It was a very cold winter’s day, too cold to be outside. My friend Jacob, had asked me to come over to his house, and maybe go to a movie later on in the afternoon. His parents had just divorced about two months prior to this horrific event. He hadn’t been the same when his parents separated, so I was always at his house, and vise versa. He was at his dad’s house as much as possible, which was convenient for me since his dad live about 2 blocks away from my house.

My mom dropped me off at Jakes, around 1:30 p.m. His face glistened with happiness, which was rare, so I was very thrilled to see a smile on his face. We decided not to go to the movies, because it was still snowing very heavily, and we didn’t want to risk getting stuck out in the cold.

We were sitting in the living room watching T.V when Jake’s dad walked in. He asked us if we wanted anything from the store, and told us he would be gone for awhile. He told us he loved us, and walked out to the garage. We continued to watch T.V. About fifteen minutes had passed when I heard the most horrifying sound ever. “BOOM.” We ran over to the garage frantically. Jake tried to open the door, but it was locked. He stood back, then jolted towards the door, and kicked it in.

There was blood everywhere. There he was, lying lifelessly on the cold hard garage floor. Jake sprinted over to his dad. I just stood in the doorway in utter shock. My legs growing weaker and weaker by the second. After they gave out, I crashed to the floor. Jacob was yelling and screaming at me, but I couldn’t make out his words. I was drowning out all sounds. I was petrified. Then I felt a hand latch onto my arm. Pulling me over to his dad, jake placed my hand over the wound. He had shot himself in the head. I was screaming, crying, and yelling out things like, “Is he dead!?” “What is happening!?” All jacob would say is, “Keep the pressure on his head.” So I did as he said.

Jacob grabbed his cell phone out of his pocket, and called 911. We were here by ourselves, fourteen year old kids, taking care of a grown man’s dead corpse. The emotional pain was excruciating. It was too much for me to handle. I threw up everywhere, and could not stop crying. I was a mess.
It seemed like years had passed by the time the ambulance got there. The Cops told us to back up and let the EMT’s do the rest, but we were not letting go, and we were not leaving. They did all that they could, but by the time the bullet passed through the head, and the time he hit the floor, he was dead. There was nothing that we could do. He was gone, Forever lost in the shadows.