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I had a rough start in life and lost a lot of people, but I never watched them die.

It wasn’t until I was a little older, a young teen that I saw someone die. The first was a drive by. Just two shots and a crumpled body on the ground writhing around in pain. The police were called, but no one came and he died there in his own blood. It happened so fast, that he died before anyone knew what to do to save him. At the same time, it seemed to take forever while he writhed around in pain. He was shot in the chest and while I was kept at a distance, I could hear the desperation in his voice as he cried out after the initial shot to the chest.

The second time, I got caught in a turf war between two gangs shooting at each other. I was trying to get the hell out of the area because of the shooting going on, but I was kinda pinned down. I saw someone go down about 5 feet from me and I hid behind a wall. I watched from behind the wall as they slowly bled out. They tried to get away, but they must have been hit hard. No one came to their aid. The worst part is they saw me not a few feet away hiding behind a wall trying not to get shot. I saw the anger in their eyes because I did nothing. Eventually, I stopped watching them die and just stayed behind the wall until the bullets stopped flying. When I came out, they were slumped against the wall. Their head down and hands on their wound. Some others came and kicked at their shoes to see if they were alive. It was so surreal. They smelled like ****. Later, I found they had **** themselves after death. People were angry at me for a long time for not doing something, but why would I go out into bullets to carry this man which was twice my size that is dying behind a wall. This man that I didn’t even know and was shooting at other people. I understand risking your life to save an innocent or a child, but a man that is perpetuating the violence? I saw that as wasting my life.

It is hard to live with the blame. It’s harder still to sit there and watch them. To tell them to get behind the wall. To know you could not carry him safely without risking your own life. To know that you are going to be the last person he sees and he hates you even though he doesn’t know your name. It’s hard to be helpless to save another, it’s harder still to accept it. I did though before many others did.

When was the last time you went without electricity, running water, food, and had babies screaming for food...now you know why I prep. These are the things a mother's nightmares are made of.