Living in Fear (2029 hits)
Category: NoneLabels: Miscellaneous
Rating: 1.72 on 20 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Jimbo (View user info) at 2004-05-24 17:49:58 EDT
I grew up with a pretty sheltered life. I mean to say, I lived on the border between the distant suburbs and farmland, and never really had to deal with the "seamy underbelly" of urban life. Maybe I watched too much TV as a child, maybe I was just dumb (http://www.ubersite.com/m/29692), but I had it exceedingly easy as a kid.
So you can imagine how my life changed when I joined the Navy. Everything moved so much faster out there in the big world. People were out to take advantage of you in San Diego, especially if you were a sorry Okie from the Skokie like me, with no practical knowedge and no one around to help you out.
Looking back on it now, it seems clear to me that I was just being silly and naïve and a bit of a pussy. But at the time, I was scared. All the time. I was scared that I'd get mugged on my way to the grocery store. I was scared that I'd become a victim of road rage during rush hour. I was scared I'd get carjacked. And I was scared I'd get murdered by someone trying to rob my home.
So I bought a gun.
And not just any gun. Something intimidating. In fact, I was so paranoid about crime that I lost my head completely and didn't even buy an efficient, practical firearm, like a Glock. I bought something that I figured would strike fear into the heart of any would-be burglar. Something that just LOOKED like it would blow your fucking head clean off.
A .357 Magnum.
Now, I understand that there are plenty of more powerful handguns out there, like the .50AE Desert Eagle, or the always imposing .44 Magnum, or the scary-as-hell .454 Super Blackhawk. But when I saw this gun, I just knew it was the one for me. It fit my hand perfectly. It had heft. It had a beautiful, subdued finish. No nickel plating or stainless steel for me. Just a tough-looking instrument of death.
I used to practice with it all the time. I'd go to the local range almost every weekend and shoot .38 Special rounds through it (they are a much cheaper alternative for target shooting than .357 rounds). I got exceptionally accurate with it. I practiced "point shooting" (a repetitive action in which you aim without using the sights). I worked the combat shooting course. I practiced shooting 3x5 cards at 10m. In short, I did everything I could think of to hone my marksmanship to a fine razor edge.
And the oddest thing happened. I started to not feel scared anymore. It's not that I started thinking I was a badass or anything. I never carried my gun around with me (it was only for home protection). I didn't start to act cocky. I guess I just got used to living in the city, got used to it's rhythms, it's people, it's places. I just became a city person, I suppose.
And then one night someone broke into my home.
My roomate had flown home to visit family the night before, so I was alone in the house. I heard the little window next to the back door tinkle as it broke, and all my fears suddenly came flooding back to me. I squeezed myself between my bed and the wall and started silently crying. I held my gun with shaking hands as I heard at least two people talking in my living room. They were laughing about something or other. I heard them yanking power cords out of the walls as they prepared to make off with my TV, my stereo, my CD collection, and God knew what else.
And then another odd thing happened. I stopped crying. My hands stopped shaking. I didn't feel angry or scared or nervous or anything. As quietly as I could, I cocked the hammer back, rested my forearms on the mattress, held my aim on the door across the room, and waited. I heard the doors down the hall open and close. I saw the hall light go on under my door. I heard them rummaging through my roommate's bedroom. And still, I just patiently waited.
When my bedroom door finally opened, I could see a man silhouetted in the doorway, fumbling for the light switch. After the light came on, he looked around for a second. He hadn't seen me yet, but I could see something in his hand. It was a gun. My roommate's shotgun.
Then he saw me. For a second, we were both frozen, staring straight at each other. Then he ran. I tried to lead him, to estimate his pace as he ran down the hall, on the other side of my bedroom wall. I squeezed the trigger.
What came next was the most excruciatingly horrific explosion to which I have ever been witness. A flame about three feet long shot out of the end of the barrel, and I thought my gun had exploded in my hand. It was like looking directly into the sun. And I'll tell you this: firing a gun in an enclosed space doesn't sound anything like in the movies, where you can hear the actors shouting to each other over the gunfire. That's fucking bullshit. Here's a little experiment: Say the letter "E" in a really high pitched voice. Now imagine raising that note a couple of octaves. That's all I could hear for 40 minutes. Add in the fact that I had just discharged a real Black Talon .357 Magnum round (which I had never fired), and all I could see was green and purple spots everywhere I looked, and you may be able to understand my disorientation.
I'd like to say that I recovered quickly and ran out to investigate, but the truth is, I can't be sure. I was so disoriented from the firing of the gun that I'm not certain. I wandered from room to room, surveying the damage, my gun at the ready position. When I finally made my way into the living room, I saw that my would-be burglars hadn't had time to take anything. Everything was unplugged and sitting next to the back door, which was still wide open. I sat down on the sofa and drank a Corona to settle my nerves.
Eventually, I regained my hearing and went into the hall to inspect the bullet hole in the wall. There was a fist-sized hole in the hall-side drywall, but only a relatively small hole in the bedroom-side drywall. The other side of the hall had six or seven good sized slits through it, and I saw two or three tiny specks of what looked to be blood. Sure enough, at the end of the hall there was a lone drop of blood on the carpet. At the back door, there were two more, right next to where the guy had dropped the shotgun.
As my head started to clear, I started to get paranoid again. I couldn't call the police, what would they think? I had taken a shot at a man running away from me. Would I get arrested for attempted murder? I remembered the urban legend about the man who shot an intruder in his own home, and went to jail for it. There was no fucking way that shit was going to happen to me. I ran to the back door, slammed it shut and locked it. I opened all the windows to force the burnt gunpowder smell out of the house. Over the rest of the weekend, I cleaned up the broken glass and put everything back in the entertainment center. I cleaned the blood out of the carpet and patched the drywall. And I called Scott's glass repair company to come and fix the broken window by the back door.
I never told my roommate. He came home and it was Like Nothing Ever Happened.
But I did trade my Ruger in for a Glock.
User Reviews
Submitted by nrduncan (user info) at 2005-08-09 10:21:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by mystiamoon (user info) at 2004-05-25 05:38:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Yes Jimbo gets my 2.
So there!
Submitted by Irazy (user info) at 2004-05-25 02:35:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Badass
Submitted by euripidestrousers (user info) at 2004-05-24 20:50:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
http://www.tonymartinsupportgroup.org/
Submitted by LucidCognition (user info) at 2004-05-24 19:41:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I don't think anything would have happened to you had you called the police seeing as he was holding a shotgun and all.
Submitted by ugaly (user info) at 2004-05-24 19:02:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Guns are fun things as long as you use them wisely...and that was a wise use. Shooting ranges and stuff like that are perfectly fine for guns squirrel. There is no problem with having one to protect yourself with.
Cool story
Submitted by Can_Always_Trust_A_Liar (user info) at 2004-05-24 18:41:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Hey, if you ever wanna get a mean looking badass handgun, go for the .50 caliber Smith & Wesson Magnum Revovler.
"Nice balance, good weight, if it does not work you can always hit him with it." Boris the Blade, Snatch
Submitted by DenDen (user info) at 2004-05-24 18:39:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
That's "Okie from Muskogee!" You poser!
Submitted by Can_Always_Trust_A_Liar (user info) at 2004-05-24 18:38:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Holy shit is this for real?
Submitted by kerthwap (user info) at 2004-05-24 18:29:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Sweet.
Submitted by legallady (user info) at 2004-05-24 18:18:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Okay, just cause OLAS doesn't think guns are cool...I have to give
ya another 2. GUNS ARE WAY COOL.
Submitted by Caulaincourt (user info) at 2004-05-24 18:15:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I forgot to mention that when I say "nice" I mean "stupid"
Submitted by Caulaincourt (user info) at 2004-05-24 18:14:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
nice country
Submitted by ohlookasquirrel (user info) at 2004-05-24 18:14:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Sorry I gotta give you this to average out my first rating to a 1.5, for the simple fact that guns are not cool.
Great story though.
Submitted by Captain-Cretin (user info) at 2004-05-24 18:11:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Over hear in the UK it is impossible to get a handgun legaly, but a few years back i was mates with a "Vietnamaniac", he and a groups of lads would dress-up in the full US 7th Airbourne cavelry gear and pretend it was for real, they had EVERYTHING, M16's, jeeps, an M60, grenades, Browning's etc.
One night a couple of guys tried to lift his TV and video, six shots later the TV was bust and there was blood all over the patio; how he got away with it I'll never know.
Still no-one ever tried to burgle him again.
Submitted by Scott_James (user info) at 2004-05-24 18:08:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Hehe, well technically it's a building firm that specialises in roofing repairs, building maintenance, purpose made joinery and glazing services.
http://www.jmcryan.com
This was good, Jimbo.
Submitted by kitchens_closed (user info) at 2004-05-24 18:06:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Nice story, though I'm a little disapointed to hear that you weren't a pussy until you got a gun.
Nonetheless, you make up for it by not calling the cops. Next time kill the bastard.
Submitted by legallady (user info) at 2004-05-24 18:01:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Interesting.
Submitted by ohlookasquirrel (user info) at 2004-05-24 18:00:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by slowlyrotting (user info) at 2004-05-24 17:59:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I don't know about the rest of the country but under Louisiana law it is legal to kill someone:
1) to protect one's own life if no other alternative is available
2) to protect someone else's life if no other alternative is available
3) to prevent entry into one's home if no other alternative is available
"prevent entry" has been used, and brought not-guilty verdicts, even when the intruder was not in the home but the shooter had reason to believe the intruder would attempt to gain entry into the home.
and Glock pwns. except for H&K and SigArms maybe.