The Choice | Teen Ink

The Choice

May 11, 2015
By Dean Siapkaris BRONZE, South Barrington, Illinois
Dean Siapkaris BRONZE, South Barrington, Illinois
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

The Choice
What would I do? This shouldn’t happen twice. This can’t happen again. John, my adoption officer, sat knocked unconscious lying on the ground and bleeding from his forehead profusely. His loaded handgun swam in a pool of blood beside his now motionless body. I had to make a decision. I couldn’t let this happen again, I won’t let this happen again. The three men guarding the doors to the restaurant with semi-automatic guns held us all hostage. His handgun sat just inches from my hands. I needed to choose, fight back and protect the other innocent people, or turn a blind eye and continue living. I have to think hard on this choice and I couldn’t  take it lightly.
Three years ago I went through life just like any other normal boy. That all changed just five days before my seventeenth birthday. We went out for dinner when my family and I all heard a loud bang come from the front door of the restaurant. A single man with a gun entered the building and told us all to get on the ground. Without hesitation I ducked and hid under the booth before the man could even see me. The rest of my family followed his orders and gathered in the center of the restaurant with the other innocent diners. They looked like sheep being herded to the slaughter and like a fool I hid under the booth of the restaurant while still remaining hidden. My hands crunched on broken glasses and plates that fell over the course of events cutting my palms and leaving crimson red handprint behind. I heard the man demanding and the owner begging him, telling him the registers had no money. They sounded like children bickering back and forth with no reason. He held a gun to my mother’s head to force the clerk to get the money. My mother, eyes tearing up, feet dragging, collapsed at the center of the restaurant. The clerk scrambled and pleaded but could not give the man money. My mother screamed and told my sister that she loved her. I then heard a bang followed by some blood curdling screams as I saw my mother fall to the mold crusted floor of the building in a pool of blood. I shut my eyes and bit my tongue as to not be detected but I did not cry. The fear for my own life transcended the sadness I had for my mother’s death. My throat dryer than the Sahara Desert, coated with mucus, I couldn’t make a sound. Everyone just fell silent with horrified looks on their faces. My sister cried and my father filled with white hot anger as they still both just sat there motionless like me.
Several hours pass by and I still hid. The unknown gunman had killed three more hostages in a desperate attempt to gain amnesty from the cops. A mix of blood and tears now coated the floor and by now the cops had surrounded the building leaving no escape for the man. He must have realized this because he grabbed my sisters hair and pulled her over to him. He demanded forgiveness and freedom but he received to response.
“Please! I don’t want to do this, all I want is money and I’ll be gone!” The gunman screamed. “I’m sorry!” he yelled. All hope left my mind as the gunman began his final escape. I can still remember every tiny, vivid detail. I looked up and my eyes met my sister’s beautiful, big, blue innocent eyes for the last time. The next moment all the hope and love flooded out of her eyes like a dam holding all her dreams had suddenly ruptured, as the gunman opened fire. He shot and shot at the crowd of remaining hostages and bolted out the back door. I heard the sound of a car start up then I heard a hail of gunfire as the police must have caught up to him. Then silence. No movement or even creaking of the floor boards, only silence. I watched the lifeless bodies praying to god that one would move, but I saw no movement. Nothing but peace and quiet. I sat there mortified of what I had just seen for what felt like hours. Until finally a policeman found me.
I became the lone survivor in a massacre that left my entire family dead along with eleven other people. Now three years later I find myself in the same grim situation for a second time.
“No one needs to get hurt, we can all escape unharmed,” yelled one of the masked men standing near the door. I sat there and just smiled trying not to start laughing. Our lives have already changed for good. I would know. What I saw that day changed me, I could never look at things the same way again.The shock of having your life on the balance painfully confounds your mind and the stress it puts on your mind alters your reality and sense of self. I blame myself for what happened the day my family died. I can’t ever forgive my sins but I can redeem myself. This has to be God giving me a second chance for redemption. I couldn’t let it go to waste. I won’t let these pure, innocent people get massacred like farm animals.
This morning John had called me and asked if I could meet him at a local coffee shop to sign some adoption forms. I had just been returned by a third family for being “too rebellious” and John wanted to let me know that the blame did not fall on me and that the family did not properly know who they adopted. I strolled into the small shop and saw John sitting by himself. I walked over and sat down across from him.
“Long time no see,” He said, “How have you been?” John had become like a father to me after the events that occurred three years ago. John took care of me and made it his goal to provide me with a bright and sunny future no matter my dark past experiences. I only cared about him now as he embodied the last bit of love I had on this earth.
“Been better, definitely been better,” I said.
“I’m really concerned about you, I’m worried that you're letting your past influence your future too much and that if you continue down this path I can only see misery for you” He said. I sat there quiet. “I just want you to be safe and happy” He added. I stared into my coffee, swirling it around in continuous circles until I heard a loud bang near the door to the shop. Three men stormed the restaurant and John stood up to see what caused the ruckus. One of the men approached John and whipped him across the face knocking him unconscious in the booth.
I ducked and there I hid under yet another booth desperately avoiding my past as these masked men took the restaurant hostage. Why couldn’t I do it? The pistol sat right there I just had to pull a simple trigger. All their lives sat on the line and I became their only salvation. When I survived the first time they called me a miracle, but I brought no miracle to anyone. Instead I became a coward that couldn’t act when I needed to because I froze. Even now I act as a weakling. I don’t want to die, I want to live.
My train of thought became suddenly derailed by a scream as one of the masked men, a complete coward, grabbed a woman and held a gun to her head. The look of fear on her face looked the same as that I had seen on my mother’s face moments before her life ended. At this moment my heart began to pump faster and I could feel myself getting ready. Could I fight back? or would I just let more people die because of my unwillingness to protect and persevere.
It felt as if time had stopped. A single shot rang through the walls of the small coffee shop as the woman fell to the ground dead. Everything then went silent. I could hear a mother in the corner of the store talking to her baby girl. She told her to be quiet and listen and they will survive and not to worry. It reminded me of my father and sister praying that God would save them. Rage welled up inside of me, deeper than anything that I had ever felt before. I could stay behind the booth in safety but I won’t. I will leave the safety of the booth and reclaim my life.  These men think they can waltz in and destroy the lives of these innocent people. I will not let that happen.
“Please don’t let them kill my baby!” the woman yelled to the frightened crowd of hostages.
“No one is going to help you lady!” the madman screamed hysterically, “Just sit there this will all be over soon, stay down and you will be fine” he added. I watched the men with a glare as I slowly reached for the gun. I can’t let anymore people step all over me and control my life. I will take back my life and become a man. No, I will become the hero that I should have become three years ago. I picked up the blood coated gun and held it in my hands. This gun represented more than just an instrument of death, this gun embodied my destiny. I will not take disrespect and fear anymore, today I will finally honor my family’s memory.
I stood up from behind the booth and began to slowly walk up to the men. They did not see me nor did they hear me sneak up behind them. I took a single deep, shaky breath and raised the gun to the back of the man’s head.
“Besides” the madman continued, “Who is going to save you now?” He said as I looked down the cold iron sights of the revolver and breathed very slowly. My finger trembling on the trigger of the revolver ready to pull. I will no longer sit idly by and let my future roll out of control I will take control.
“I am.”



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