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I hear gun shots echoing in my head, as if they were shot in the distance, like a dream where the faster you try to run, the slower you are. The cold air of the night is piercing my face as I run to no certain destination.I realize the gun shots are coming from the pistol in my hand. i watch as the flames of each bullet scream in slow motion looking for their victim. It feels like a nightmare I can't wake up from. I'm bleeding from a bullet shot to the stomach. I feel the burning of the bullet inside. I hear screams from frightened women, and yells from men dying. It's a yell I never want to hear again. I can sense the evil and death in the dark moonless night. Bullets whiz by so close I can feel them as they pass me by. It's nothing like the movies. When these bullets hit, there is no turning back. I find my ranfla, get in and hit the gas, almost forgetting to turn the headlights on. I can't believe I'm shot. I don't want to believe it. Deep down inside I know I had it coming.
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I reach into the backseat to make sure my camcorder I bought in Mexico is still there. I don't have much time, but there is so much I want to say. I drive toward the country, looking for a place to park. I know that if I go to the hospital, I'll go to la pinta for life. And that is no way for my story to end. I finally pull into an old abandoned barn. There's nobody in sight as I slowly step out, holding my wound with one hand. Blood is on my shirt, my hands and steering wheel. I reach into the back seat and pull out my bag with blank video tapes and camcorder. I can hardly stand the paralyzing pain in my abdomen with each step I take. As I walk towards the back of the barn I notice a small room. I quickly glance around and see a small kerosene lamp and a sink. I check and there is enough fuel to illuminate the small room. I light the wick with my lighter. I let the sink run for a few minutes until the water runs clear.
