This is based on a true account in the newspaper. I just redid it as a first person narative, including some of the personal feelings that news stories leave out.

Untitled Short
by
Wayne R. Crauder

I enjoy my work here at Prussor's. It isn't that fancy as a bar. We get a few regulars from Cat over at the industrial park. And a few people see the sign and stop to see Buford's brother. But we are not too much for the Walking Tall stuff. Fridays and Saturdays are our big nights. We have good bands come in and draw people from 40 or 50 miles away. Out here in nowhere, we have to. There is nothing really close. There is a family lives about 1/4 mile down the road. They are pretty good folks.

It is about 4:30AM and I am cleaning up after closing. A regular knocks at the door. He has left his hat here. I let him in. Things like this happen occasionally and he doesn't seem to drunk. The law says we have to close at 4, but that can't fault us for letting a guy get his hat. He heads towards the table and I walk back to the bar and start cleaning it.

OWWW. Damn pain in my side bout to knock me down. My ears ring and I cannot see a thing. Most awful pain I ever felt. I try to grab the bar and stay standing. I begin to open my mouth to ask the hat guy for help. Time stops suddenly. I see the bar fade away as I hear the heavens above open up and fill the room with the most complete noise I have ever heard. I am pushed against the bar as a second pain in my back penetrates my whole body. It is like a knife twisting and twisting without stop. I try to turn and move. I know something is wrong. The world is ending and I cannot figure out why. Now I push myself from the bar a few inches and get my head turned. LIGHT. An amazing light fills my eyes and blinds me as once again a awful pain tears my body. I KNOW. I know what I saw before the pain ripped me. A cannon. He is shooting me. The guy with the hat is shooting me. I must act fast. How many shots does a 45 hold? Where is Buford when I need a hero?

I move now towards the end of the bar. Each step is a mile. I can feel each foot slowly raise and seek a place to set down. I try to move faster but cannot. Every action I think about and plan and then watch it happen. Did he quit shooting? It is so quiet now. I start the second
step. NO! I scream at the Gods as the 4th shot enters my should and knocks me onto the bar. My hands hang down the back of the bar and I see the gun there. I must get it. He is trying to kill me. Why? The money? He can have the money. Just don't send another bullet into my
body. Please God, please end this. NOW!

My hand reaches for the gun. I cannot move it faster. I cannot get off of the bar. It is so silent. There is no sound anywhere. I wait for the next shot. Maybe he thinks I am dead. I touch the gun. Automatically, my fingers wrap around it. My thumb cannot get the safety off. I concentrate all of my body into pushing that safety. At last there it is. It is so quiet. Am I dead? I push my self up from the bar. I feel my body inch up on so slowly and feel 4 drills rending my body from the 4 shots. My whole body is pain. My limbs are numb, but seem to work. Where is he? Is he still there? Is he going to shoot again.

DAMN. I feel the fires of hell burning within my body. But, it is moving. I am moving. I am alive. I AM STILL ALIVE. I need to turn to get this body around. I am going to stay alive. I have a gun. I have a chance. He is done shooting. I WILL LIVE! My spirit starts to rejoice
as mu body comes upright.

NO! NO! NO! My silent screams rise uncontrollably as the fifth shot burns it way through my body. It is spinning me around. I am out of control. I am going to fall. I squeeze the trigger as I feel myself being turned by that shot. Oh so slowly I squeeze. I cannot help
thinking squeeze, not jerk. It is a funny thought. I cannot do it faster. Things are going so slow. I see him now. All I can see is the giant gun aimed at me. IT IS REAL! Someone is shooting me.

My gun goes off. I try to squeeze the trigger once again. Oh so slowly the trigger moves in. I can feel each nerve of my body pulsing the wretching pain to my brain. I can feel my brain grow with the pain. It squeezes within my skull and begins to push my eyes. I am going to go
blind. I need to get this shot off. I can feel myself falling. But, I keep the gun aimed at him. Shoot and live. Shoot and live. Shoot and live. Shoot and live. PAIN! NO! no time for that. Shoot and live. Shoot and live. Shoot and live. Shoot and live. Finally as the litany
runs around my head and holds me to my purpose, the gun goes off.

Shoot and live. Shoot and live. I am falling, I cannot see the gun aiming at me anymore. I CANNOT FALL! I must stay up. I must rise. I have to live. LIVE. Now I am screaming at my body. It is doing it. My body is getting up. I must clear my vision now. SEE! SEE! I command my eyes. OPEN! SEE! Through a screen of red, I see a surreal image of the bar I have looked the past few years. Everything is wrong. It never looked like this before. I look for the gun and try to brace for the next shot. I cannot find it. I look where it was. FInally my eyes search the floor and I see legs behind a table.

Help. I must get help. I move towards the door. It is a job I never realized before. Raise my foot. Move it forward. Lower it. PAIN! NO! I shout it down. I must get help. I AM GOING TO LIVE! I promise myself this with every step. I reach the door. I slowly go down the steps holding tight to the rail. I try to riase the gun for any enemies who would steal my life from me out here. My hand is empty. I lost my gun. No one is here. It is so quiet. Do my ears work? Do I need them? No, I quickly decide. I need my feet. Take a step. Do not fall down. Keep moving.

It soon becomes my new litany. STEP! STAND! MOVE! LIVE! STEP! STAND! MOVE! LIVE! 400 yards of STEP! STAND! MOVE! LIVE! Finally I fall against the door knocking with my whole body. But it works.

I can hear the sound echo through the house. Will they please answer. I once again hit the door. I hear movement. I AM HEARING! My ears work. I CAN HEAR!

The door opens and I fall forward catching myself on the door frame. Using few words, I explain, "Robbery, dead man in bar. Call sherriff."

He asks me in and reaches for me. I throw myself back from his hands. "I have to go back. Call sherriff." I turn and work my way slowly back to the bar. I remember now the door is open. Someone could rob it. I must get back and protect the bar.

Finally I again enter the bar. It is starting to look like something I have seen before. It really is the same bar. The police are coming. I must clean up. I work my way back to teh bar and return to cleaning it. I will have to go to the hopsital. I must get this done. I have to get my work done. It must be right. I see broken glass behind the bar and realize there was a shot which missed me. I move behind the bar and try to clean it up. I keep seeing blood. I realize it is mine. I am bleeding in the bar. NO! I can't do this. Must keep the bar clean.
Tomorrow is another big night for us. I must get my blood out of the bar.

I go towards the door. I can almost walk normal. I reach the door and go out. I still have the cleaning rag in my hand and so I clean the blood from the door knob. I have to make this right. I am working so hard at it, I do not hear the sirens. NO! I feel again a pain shooting
through my body. NO! No more shooting. PLEASE! I turn. It is a deputy. He was trying to talk to me. There is an ambulance and deputies all over. I move from the door and let them enter.

"Keep the place clean please. We have a band tomorrow and a big crowd. Please take care of things." The medic tells me to lay down now. "NO" I must tell them what happened. "It was not my fault." Where is the deputy?

Here he is now. He lets me tell my story and asks very few questions as I tell what happened. I cannot tell the pain and there is so much I cannot remember for the pain. But I tell him I was shot in the back. And he kept shooting trying to kill me so I had to shot back. At last he
tells me I did right. I look around. The lot is crowded. I told the police. I cleaned the bar as best I could. What else is there to do? Nothing. I am done. I now tell the medic yes I will lay down. And I do. As soon as I do, consciousness passes from me. But I am alive and I
did things right. I am at peace with this night for now.