The Crowd That Kept Us Apart // colorado avalanche

Chapter 8

I didn't want to believe what I saw. Manson lay almost lifeless on the floor. I hurried through the frightened crowd and I heard more gunshots coming from outside. I was scared. More scared than I have been in a long time. Being slightly drunk didn't help in my endeavors. Someone was already at Manson's side when I got there. I practically pushed him out of the way.

"Manny buddy, please tell me you ain't dead," I pleaded, getting down by his side.

"Screw you,'' Manson said through gritted teeth.

"Ay! You're alive! Are you okay?" I was relieved that he replied to me.

"Pain," Manson said, gripping his shoulder.

"Pain? Like emotional pain or- oh Gosh! That's a lot of blood!" my eyes widened.

"Yes. Pain." Manson was shot just below his right collarbone. Thick maroon blood flowed fast from the wound down his arm. It was bigger than any bullet wound I've seen then again I haven't seen many if any.

I point to a random bystander, "you! Call the police and get my friend some help!" he nodded and scrambled for his phone. I pulled my shirt off revealing the tight undershirt I had on under that pressed against my sore muscles. "Here Manny take this to put pressure on the wound," he did as I said. He groaned in pain, so I helped him sit up against the bar.

Manson rolled his head back "Ah, s-shit," he said through his visible pain. Tears hung in his eyes. But more than that, staying conscious was difficult for him.

"Manny, please don't die!" I said half joking.

"I'm not gonna die!" I could tell holding my blood covered shirt to his wound was a struggle. I decided to take over, the amount of blood he was losing was a lot.

"This might hurt," I say, applying pressure. A pained groan escapes out of his mouth.

"Yeah might," he says sarcastically.

"I'm going to need therapy after this," I'm usually one to joke under stressful situations, but I can tell by the annoyed face Manson gave me this was not the time to joke. After what felt like an hour we heard distant sirens, relief struck both of our faces. Help was on the way.

Paramedics burst through the pub door.

"Over here! My friend was shot!" I screamed. They hustled over and immediately tended to Manson. I stood and got out of the way.

"Are you ok?" one of the paramedics asked me, examining the blood that covered me.

"Physically? We will see tomorrow. Emotionally? No, not at all." I joked.

"Does he have any family here?"

"No, they all live out of state, I believe. I'd say I'm the closest person he has."

"Do you mind coming in the ambulance with him?"

"Sure I'll go!" I said almost falling over. The alcohol had really started to settle in. I followed the paramedics out of the pub. Manson lay on a stretcher. I viewed the scene that had developed outside. Things finally sunk in what had happened when I saw blood scattered around and dead bodies being covered. My heart dropped. Seeing people being interviewed, the police lights lighting up the night, more than one ambulance being filled. This was something you only see in movies, something you don't dare think could happen to you. Something no one should have to go through.

We loaded the back of the ambulance. Manson looked absolutely baked with the amount of painkillers he was on. I sat to the left of him two paramedics to the right, attending to his wound more. I glanced down at the dried blood covering me, mostly on my hands but drops managed to make it on my legs. The thought that tickled my mind was this was not my blood, it wasn't an animal's blood, it was my friend's.