The Bottom Bullet | Teen Ink

The Bottom Bullet

October 30, 2014
By Jacob Niles BRONZE, Camas, Washington
Jacob Niles BRONZE, Camas, Washington
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

The Bottom Bullet

I reach forward and grab the door handle of a small, mom and pop jewelry store, in my black hoodie and my blue and green Seahawks cap. I open the door reminding myself why I am going through with this horrible plan. Under my shirt is a 9 millimeter that I recently bought using a fake I.D. It’s almost as if everything is moving in slow motion. I pull out the gun and shout, “Everyone on the ground now!”
I think of how I got here, everything leading up to this one moment that could change my life forever. It all started two weeks ago. I was sitting in the cold, dark, doctor's office waiting for my wife. There was a young boy next to me wearing a red T-shirt and blue jeans. He was very small with short, brown, spikey hair.
“What are you here for?” I asked.
“I’m getting circumcised,” he repled. He looked nervous, so I tried to make a joke.
“I had that done when I was born, I couldn’t walk for a year.” I say as we both laugh.
“Mr. Phillips, Chris Phillips?” the doctor calls out, In his white jacket and khakis.  I follow him into a back room where my wife Veronica is sitting. She’s so beautiful with her flowing hair and bright blue eyes.
“How’d it go?”
“Good” she replies. By the sound of her voice I can tell she’s worried. I’m about to say something when the doctor takes off his glasses and starts to speak.
“After observing the CAT scan, we have found the cancer has spread to your lungs. I’d say you have about a year. I’m sorry.” Veronica starts to hyperventilate.
“It’s o.k it’s o.k,” I say, holding her, trying to calm her down. I won’t let this happen; I can't. We’ve only been married for eight years and I’m not ready for it to end. She has already been fighting for over two years. This isn’t fair. “We’re going to get through this no matter what it takes,” I confirm.

And that’s why I’m in this mess. I shout at the old man behind counter. “Open the vault! Before things get ugly.” I don’t want to hurt this man, but if I’m not strict he’ll never take me seriously. Before I realize it, he pushes a small button under the counter that I assume alerts the police. “Hey! Get away from there.” I push him back, knocking him off his feet. I have to get out of here and fast, I think.
I look at my surroundings and see only four people. The old man now lying behind the counter, in his thick glasses and hearing aids, a young man who looks like he could be buying an engagement ring, and an older couple who looks  like they could be in their early fifties. “Everybody, give me your phones.”
“Please! please don’t hurt me,” the old lady pleads. After I collect the phones I pull out a small bag from my hoodie pocket and start to load it with cash and jewels. I remind myself why I’m doing this; why I have to do this.

Suddenly, I’m back in the doctor's office. ”There is one surgery that could give you a slight chance, but it’s not cheap.”
“I don’t care. Do whatever it takes,” I answer.

I need this money; if I can’t pay for my wife’s surgery, she will die. As I’m about to leave, out of the corner of my eye, I see the first of many cop cars. As they step out of their cars, guns in hand, I shout, firing my gun in the air, “Stay away! I have hostages!” Another man steps out, with a bullhorn.
“We don’t want anyone getting harmed. Come outside with your hands up.”
“Not until I’m promised full immunity!”
“We can’t promise that mr. ?” he says asking for my name.
“Phillips. And I can’t come out then!”
“Than we will have to remove you by force, this is your last chance!” I wait in silence, gripping my 9mm even tighter. I move behind the counter to protect myself from any potential firing. “We’re entering the building!” Three men enter from the front door and two from the side door.
“Stay away!” I fire my gun in the air. I’m down to six bullets. The’re within ten feet now and I need to move quick. I stand up. Two bullets enter my shoulder as I fire my remaining six bullets. As the bottom bullet leaves the chamber I realize I’ve lost… I’ve lost her.



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