Revenge

                                Revenge
                        By : Jordy Bosnie

It was 7:00 o’clock in the morning and my father, Agent Grey Walker, took his daily coffee, and went to work. My father was a typical cop going to the police station in South Central L.A. from our home in the suburbs.
At 9 o’clock my father and his partner, Agent Mike Miller, went to patrol one of the worst neighborhoods in South Central L.A. when the dispatcher came over the radio and asked for a patrol car to go to a dispute call nearby. Mike always got nervous when this happened. My father and Mike went to the address when they arrived, they found a messed-up house. There was the sound of screams coming from the house. Mike unclipped his holster, walked to the front door and said L.A.P.D., and opened the door a crack, but there wasn’t any response. He tried again, but still no one responded. My father opened the door slowly while his heart was beating hard and. Mike pulled out his gun, and they started searching around. In the corner of Mike’s eye he saw a woman sitting down in a corner. She had cuts all over her body and she was crying and bagging for help. Mike went to her, trying to help her, while my father searched the house. He didn’t find anyone else. Mike called for an ambulance to pick the woman up. The ambulance soon arrived and put her in the back of the van and drove to the hospital.
Mike and my father went back to their car, and thanked God that everything had gone correctly this time. Mike wanted to go get something to eat so they went to a fried chicken restaurant nearby. After they finished eating and as they where talking  two armed robbers with masks came into the restaurant .
The two robbers came in fast and furious. Mike got down on the floor rapidly and my father quickly got behind the bench. My father took a peek at them.. One of them had a handgun, the other one had an AK 47 assault rifle. One robber told everybody to shut up, and get down on the floor, while the other one was busy stealing the money from the vault. When the robber turned around to see how his partner was doing, my father took a chance, and got his gun out and, pointed it at the robber with the AK 47.
My father yelled at him to PUT THE GUN DOWN, but the thief didn’t  do it. Instead, the robber cocked the rifle. My father told him he would shoot, one move or one sound and he would shoot.  The robber was just about to pull the trigger when my father shot 3 rounds and hit him in the chest and neck.
However, the other robber was able to get off a couple of rounds. My father was hit badly. Mike jerked out his gun trying to shoot, but didn’t manage to hit the robber. He started running  with Mike trying to chase him down, but the robber was too fast. Mike didn’t give up, he kept running after him but the robber got away in a getaway car. Mike got the license plate number and wrote it down.
Mike went back to the restaurant to see how his partner was doing. My father was hit twice in the chest. For Mike, this was one of the worst moments of his life, watching his best friend dieing in his arms. Mike quickly called the ambulance, which soon arrived and took my father to the hospital.
Mike went to the hospital with my father and while my father was in surgery, he thought about how my mother was  going to feel when she found out about her husband. Mike waited for over two hours in the waiting room. He was nervous and worried that his friend wouldn’t make it. Eventually, a doctor came and asked him if he was Mike’s friend and Mike answered, “Yes, will Grey be okay?”  The doctor said he was sorry… but my father was badly injured and although  we did all we could to save him, he was pronounced dead at 7 o’clock p.m. This was the breaking point for Mike. He started crying in the waiting room.
About an hour later the phone ring at our house and I picked it up , it was Mike, asking to speak to my mother. I had never heard Mike talking like that, and I knew something bad was going on. I passed the phone to my mom, and after a few seconds my mom started crying and slammed the phone down hard. She sat down and I asked her  what’s the worst?  She told me that my father would not be coming home.
Since then my life has been like hell. My name is Steve Walker, I’m 21 years old and I just finished high school. I have been trying out for a pro football team, and in my free time I play paintball with my friends. I also have a brother named John Walker, who still goes to school, he’s studying medicine and getting a degree. I still live with my mother.
Since my dad died, most of my nights were sleepless, while I obsessed over my father’s death and hating the murderer who had killed him. Sometimes I got the urge to go after the guy who had killed him. 
One night I woke up to go get  some water in the kitchen and I saw my mother crying on the porch. I walked over to her and asked her, “ What’s wrong Mom.”  For a moment she didn’t answer, then she told me to sit down.    She explained to me how much she missed my father and she also told me how much my father had loved me.  That’s moment I got some weird feelings, a feeling that I had never had before. I still can’t explain it. I realized how much I loved and cared for him and I remembered all the great times we had had together.
The next day Mike came to our house to talk to my mother. After he was done talking to my mother, he came to me and asked me if we could talk privately in my room. He handed me a folder.  I still can’t explain why he handed it to me. That was the last time I saw Mike.
After that, I tied to go to sleep, but I couldn’t. I looked at the folder, picked it up and opened it. I start reading.  It was information about what had happened at the incident,  information about the murderer, and photos.  Mike had been investigating the case.  Mike with the help of one of his FBI friends had found out where the murderer lived and who he was, as well as other information about his life.
  That night I couldn’t sleep, all I was thinking about was taking revenge on the robber who had shot my father. Out of nowhere I got this crazy notion to do it; to take revenge on the robber and kill him. 
I went to my brother and  I told him about my idea of taking revenge on our father’s killer. My brother asked me if I was crazy. I told him, “No , I’m not crazy, but I still want to do it.” I asked him to think about it. If we were going to do it, I wanted to do it the next day, but asked him not to tell our  mother about it yet.  He didn’t respond. I went to my father’s room and got the hand gun that he had always kept near the bed. I picked it up and  I went into my closet to get my hunting rifle. We used to hunt every fall, so I knew how to handle guns.
I got into my bed, wondering if I was making the right decision, but no attack of conscience arose to stop me. I just wanted to do it. I went to sleep and that night I slept for about 4 hours, it wasn’t much.
I woke up the next day feeling better than I had in months, believing that if I took revenge on the robber it would make me feel better. I walked to my brother’s room , opened the door asked him, “Are you coming? He said  okay.  I told him to get dressed, we’re going in ten  minutes. I got the guns and went to the garage  to put them in the car. I started the car and  while I waited for my brother I thought again about  my father and my mother as well as what I was about to do, but still felt the need to do it. Soon my brother got into the car and we drove to the address  in South Central  L.A. that has been listed in the folder.
As we got closer I started getting even more nervous and I could see that my brother was too. I could imagine how my brother was feeling,  he had only taken some rounds with the pistol and he wasn’t the strong one. When we got to the address I give my brother the hand gun and I took the rifle.  I told John to go to the front of the house and I went to the back.  The house was quiet and still.. I went quickly to the back door, and kicked it in. Seconds later John kicked in the front door and we came rushing in fast and furious no-one could stop us. I yelled at  everybody to get down.
There was the robber’s mother , two little children and my father’s murderer. I saw red and I picked him up, put him against the wall, and put the rifle to his head. He had fear in him, and I could see tears flowing from his eyes. I turned around and looked at John who was screaming at me, “Don’t do it, it won’t improve anything.” I didn’t listen to him, and the more I looked at the robber the more I wanted to kill him. His mother was screaming in the background and  John told her to shut up furiously. After a moment, I couldn’t take it anymore, and all I could think of was that he took away somebody that I cared a lot for. I looked him in the eye, and I started to get tears running down my face. I pulled the trigger slowly, “BAMM.“ And there it was, I became a murderer just like the one who killed my father. But I was worse, I had killed someone while looking in their eyes , right in front of their family.
After the intense moment my brother and I knew we where in big trouble. We got in the car and drove away. When we got home my brother quickly got out of the car while I sat in the car and thought about what I had done. I started feeling weird, and wondered how I  could have killed someone. What did it prove? Nothing really had changed, my father was still dead and now I had destroyed what was left of my life and ruined my mother’s and brother’s lives. For what?