The Survivor Eight

Jan and Sarah walked together along the river. They had a lot in common as both of them still struggled with using the firearms. Sarah spoke first. "Everytime I shoot one of those darn weapons it feels like my heart just breaks. It's so violent I can't imagine one of those bullets going into the flesh of another human even if he wants to kill me. I feel like part of me dies with every shot I fire and I can't even explain it to the rest." Jan was silent for a few moments and then added. "It's a little different for me. I've seen so many kids into the ER with a gunshot wound in them. Some live but many die. Life is so fragile. I've seen what it does to the staff as we fight so hard to keep them alive but that tiny bullet snuffs out life so easily. I remember one young teen in particular. He was about seventeen handsome young black kid from the inner city. There was only a very small puncture wound near the side of his nose and yet it took his life in a second. I could hear his family in a small room off the ER where the doctor and chaplain told them he was dead. There was screaming and crying and a sound that was almost inhuman. It was the unearthly wailing that only a mother hearing about the death of one of her babies could make. A few hours earlier he was stuffing his face at dinner and now he was gone forever". Both women put their arms around each other and walked on in silence. No more words were needed.