Personal Narrative-It's Time To Kill A Gun

I ran upstairs, and checked all the hiding spots. All the guns were there, of course, but I needed something to do. I made my bed, cleaned the downstairs, I even alphabetized the books on our shelf, reading pieces of a few that I thought might help. My hand shook more and more with every activity. I was trying to keep my mind away from the matters at hand and what I had just done, but it wasn’t much use. I looked out front and saw no one. I sat down by the window, keeping a close eye out for the work vans, or worse.
With another killing, they will be looking for a murder or even a scapegoat. They want someone to punish. I wondered if Denise was doing alright, she was probably hiding out somewhere. Often times she seemed in perfect control, but how could she be right now. She had to be a mess.
Suddenly, without warning there came a loud boom from below in the valley. I then heard a rat-tat-tat of machine gun fire. First from one gun, but after a few seconds more guns started in. The guns kept firing for a minute or so more, reloading every once in a while. Then suddenly the guns stopped all at once. I sat there for a minute or two longer, waiting for another sound, but there was none.
I reached under the couch cushion for the gun. I checked …show more content…
Once they were both upstairs, I grabbed my pistol and headed out for the meeting. I approached the door, and was let in, I pulled my hood off as I headed out back. The air was filled with talk of the second murder and the incident in the copper mine. It took a few minutes before several people stood at the front and said their piece. There was a brief session where we were taken to uprising school. They instructed us on making Molotov cocktails and how to easily take down someone in hand to hand combat. They also taught us basic fighting position and firing position. According to them, hopefully, with enough people, they would be able to overpower the enemy within the