I remember a day so horrible I do not want to talk about it. But I have to get this weight off my chest. It was and still will be, the worst day of my life.
Descriptions of everybody I saw at the time: Amy is a tall, dark brown haired, 15 year old female, who is shy but not as shy as I am, is tanned but not so tanned, and also enjoys a lot of TV and games and also enjoys talking with friends. I, Cylin, am a dark brown haired person at the age of thirteen, who enjoys the achromatic colors (White, gray, and black), so I decided to wear a white t-shirt with white jeans at the time of the abduction, and for getting revenge I wore a black hoodie with dark shoes with dark jeans. I am also really shy, but I will not describe Amy's friend or the police since they were not seen much by my own eyes.
I always considered myself a shy person, but after I tell you all of this, I probably will never talk about this to anyone again.
It started off as an ordinary day, my friend Amy and I walking down a street in Nevada talking about things that happened in school when we had a weird conversation.
Amy: Cylin, mind if we stop at a friend's house? I'm sure our parents won't mind.
Me: Um... Sure, I guess.
We went into Amy's friend's house, and we stayed there for about 2 hours, and I was being ignored. I enjoyed every second of it, because I do not like to talk to people I don't know much. But then Amy decided to include me in the conversation.
Amy: Cylin, is something wrong? You seem a little more silent than usual.
Me: Nothing is wrong. It's just that...I feel uneasy.
Amy: About what?
Me: Being ar-
I stopped talking. I wasn't going to say another word. I was scared. I started tearing up. I'm sure Amy and her friend thought I was stupid for that, but they didn't realize how scared I actually was. I dashed down the street full speed ahead, and then I bumped into someone.
???: Watch it!
Me: Sorry sir!
???: The name's Gage.
Me: Oh...sorry Gage, I will just be g-
Gage: Get back here you street rat, I didn't say you could leave!
Gage: No buts, you are coming with me, I will make kids like you have more respect!
Gage: Make me!
He dragged me into an alley, then, he grabbed something, and hit me in the face with it, knocking the wind out of me and blurring my vision. After then it all faded to black.
I woke up hours later in a building with a gash on my face bleeding, I was crying hard and hoping someone would help. Gage walked in holding a knife.
Gage: It's useless, kid, you're gonna die here. Now shut up or I will make your death more painful than it needs to be. Now time to see what I can do to you.
I tried getting up, but then I noticed my hands and legs were tied to each other, and I couldn't free myself.
Gage: Here kid, you will be my knife rack for now.
He stabbed the knife into my shin. I yelled and cried in such pain as I have never felt before, when suddenly I heard police sirens going off. The guy hurried up and took his knife from my leg, which made me yell even louder. He then dumped gasoline on the ground, lit it up with a match, and then ran off. People were rushing to the scene, hoping there was not anyone in there. But there was, it was me. Amy and her friend arrived at the building and called the fire department. After they retrieved me, I was in such horrible shape, from what looked like several blows from a pipe to the head, legs, and right shoulder, that I don't think I could have been rushed to the hospital any faster.
You might think that after I recovered the story would be over, but it's not. A few days after, after I was healed a little bit, I grabbed my book bag and put a steel rod in it. I was going to hunt down Gage and make him feel the pain he had caused me.
I sat in the alley, in a garbage can. That's when I saw Gage with someone. It was Amy.
I put on my hood and bandana and jumped out of the trash can with the pipe, and Gage looked at me.
Gage:Who are you?
Me:I am the person who will stop you!
I slammed the pipe on his head with full force, but all that caused was him to stumble back and hit the wall behind him dazed. I didn't hit him hard enough.
I grabbed the garbage can lid, and bashed him in the face with it. I then grabbed my pipe and put the lid over Gage's dazed face, and hit the lid with my pipe. I removed the lid, to see him unconscious and bleeding. I was relieved.
I pulled out my cellphone, and dialed the police.
Operator: 911, what's your emergency?
Me: I just caught a criminal, he was getting ready to hurt a female in an alley off main street. I would know he was going hurt her because I was a victim of his.
Operator: OK, just stay where you are. An officer will be there shortly.
After the police officer got there, I had put down my weapons and taken off the bandana. The officer inspected Gage's body and asked Amy a few questions to see if Gage really was going to hurt her. Then he turned to me.
Officer: You are a hero, kid. I'll bet Amy feels that way too.
Me: Officer, wait! I think I know this person!
I felt something grab me. It was Gage.
Gage: I don't go down that easy!
Gage pulled out a gun, and shot Amy in the back and the officer in the leg. The officer called for back up before taking his gun out to return fire. Meanwhile, Gage went to shoot Amy again but I intercepted and took the shot. He shot me in my right shoulder, the shoulder he bashed with the pipe.
I screamed, but with anger I kicked him in the face, then in his gun hand, which didn't do anything. He aimed at my face, and then I remembered a weapon I never threw out - a shard of stained glass. I ran, and jumped from boxes onto a trashcan and then dove behind the trashcan where Amy was. I dragged her behind it, and started whispering to her, things like "It's okay. You won't die...I won't let it happen," until Gage came around, and I stabbed his gun hand with the shard and he dropped his gun.
I grabbed the gun from the ground, took the clip out of it making sure I deposited the bullets for evidence. The officer, seeing he now had a clear shot, shot him in the face. He stumbled over. Then the back up came and arrested the man, who I now knew to be a psychopath.
I cried and hugged Amy, after giving the items to the police, and hoped help for her survival would arrive soon. I wished I could have been in the same ambulance as Amy, so I could of known if she was okay, but I wasn't since I was shot also. But after my recovery Amy was still in the hospital for she had a worse wound than I did. Every day after I would visit her and think, "I should have been there to help more...".
Amy is scared for life. She is still recovering, but I still visit her. They say that she may need help to do some things, but I made a promise to myself to help more, so I help her with some simple things that she can't do because of her wound. Sometimes I wish I could forget that day, and I am sure Amy too is thinking about it. I suppose something as terrifying to witness as this has a moral: Stand up for people if they are being hurt. Something good may come out of it.