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The Ambulance Will Come
By Bryan Crumpley
The car came, they sprayed bullets wildly, their targets were picked with blindfolds and coin flips. As the first bullet hit Eden she figured it could’ve happened to anyone. Living in Chicago, shootings happen, accidents happen. She just didn’t think it’d be her. The bullet punched a hole through the sides of her neck, clean. Another bullet hit her shoulder; loose flesh was all that was left.
Eden stood up as the car squealed away. She rubbed her hand on her neck, she felt sore, like she’d been sleeping in a weird position. She stretched her extremities and cracked her neck sending a splash of blood into the air. The gushing blood from her neck was getting mixed into her long dark hair, weighing down her already strained neck.
Eden figured that she should probably get to a hospital. She figured, with shot wounds like these she might die soon. This didn’t scare her. She was sure someone would call 911. She knew an ambulance would come. She approached a mother sitting on a park bench watching her children playing on the slide. The slides and swings had a few bullet holes but none of the kids seemed to mind.
“Excuse me ma’am, can you call me an ambulance?” blood bubbled out of her neck as she talked, spraying the woman when the bubble popped.
The mother turned to look at her, noticing the bullet holes through her neck and her blood soaked clothes. “That looks pretty painful.”
“It’s not too bad, just sore. Feel like I should probably get an ambulance though, y’know the whole…” Eden gestured to her punctured body.
The mother nodded, “Yeah, well, sorry about that,” the mother turned back to watch her kids, ignoring Eden.
Eden got the hint and looked for someone else. She spotted a bald man in a long brown trench coat. “Excuse me sir, I kinda have a hole in my neck. Can you call me an ambulance?”
The man turned to Eden surprised, “Wow,” he bent down to peer at the hole, “So you do.” He pulled down his glasses and stared through the gap in her neck, staring at the kids on the playground, “That’s fascinating, how’d it happen?”
“I was caught in that drive by shooting that just passed by.”
“Hmm, that’s unfortunate, well, good luck to you,” he said as he walked off to expose himself to the kids on the swings.
Eden began to grow tired as she walked away. She found an empty bench and sat down. She took her shirt and dabbed at the blood gushing from her neck. A young man came and sat down next to her.
“Sup,” he asked with a casual nod.
“Eh, not much, I have a hole in my neck.”
“Hmm, yeah, I noticed that.”
“Do you think you could call me an ambulance?” Eden stared at him waiting for an answer.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, no.”
Eden nodded her head in response. “It’s fine, I’m sure an ambulance will come.” Eden relaxed into the bench, the blood curdled and filled puddles in the nooks of her shoulders.
“For sure,” the man nodded.
Eden sat turning the words over in her mind, “The ambulance will come. The ambulance will come.” When she closed her eyes she believed it.
Bryan Crumpley is a part time beard grower and a full time writer guy. He has received a BA in Fiction Writing from Columbia College Chicago. He dreams to someday be referred to as that cool writer guy. He also dreams of one day being able to perfectly bake a sweet potato. Some dreams are more accessible.
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