WARNING: This is another graphic post, read only if you have a strong stomach.
Remember, this is not a real case, rather a blend of what I have experience. Any similarities to a real situation are totally coincidental.
Blood pooled underneath his head, congealing in blobs that looked liked cooked tomatoes. The clumps of brain matter looked similar to grains of rice mixed in. The single bullet wound between his eyes spoke of a desperation so deep I couldn't fathom it. It also spoke of a young person's rashness, and deep scars. His eyes were open, staring blankly into the gap between the trees. His hand still curled around the gun used to take his own life.
His close friend was about 3 miles back on the two-track leading deep into the woods. He stood there sobbing "I can't go on, I couldn't stop him, Is there anything different I could have done?" He told of a tale of what he thought was a happy lark into the woods turning into a witnessing of a tragic end to a young life. A young person driven to taking his own life. Driven by desperation, by pain, and by tragedy to selfishly end his own life. Seemingly, it was a sudden, rash decision; one made out of the quick decisions of teenage years. But, we'll never know if he really wanted to kill himself, or just made a rash decision. He did it right, and there is no going back now.
The EMT who beat me on scene was valiantly performing chest compressions while her tears mixed with the pooling blood. "He's one of my son's friends, I coached him in Basketball, He's such a talented kid" she gasped out as I came up.
His Mom was further down the road, stopped by Police before she seared her memory with her son's mangled body. She was also sobbing, crying for her bright young son. She kept repeating "He never told me he needed help, I would have gotten him all the help under the sun, if only he would have told me". I recognized her, couldn't place her right away. As I went further, I remembered...She was the sister of the Mother of another recent tragedy in this small town.
As I looked at his body, it was obvious that any efforts we made would be futile. Brain matter was splattered for a large radius, and the back of his head was missing. I ran my strips, and called the time as the EMTs on scene collectively cried. This was a very small town, and they all knew him. Fathers, Mothers, Friends, all stood as witnesses to the tragedy, the end of a bright young life. Even the Police Officers stood unabashedly crying as they recited stories of him being the one who stayed out of trouble, and helped others.
It was a scene I won't ever forget. Later, we assisted the coroner in transporting the body to the hospital for x-rays then to the morgue for autopsy. As we carried him out, the other workers still onscene formed a silent line, a tribute to a community's pain.
That night, I came home late, exhausted yet unable to sleep. I went to the fridge to find something to eat. Several prepared dishes awaited my selection, yet all contained tomatoes, and most had rice as well. For the first time, I couldn't stomach them because of the similarities. I had cereal for dinner and cried over the desperation of one young man.
Celebrating the Voices
1 day ago