The backdrop was down. The set had an apocalyptic feeling, the burning buildings lining the dark gothic streets made me feel uneasy even though I knew it was make-believe.
I loved heavy metal, and this rock band was at the top of my list, The Troubled Kitties. It was the first concert I attended. Their act was different than the videos on T.V. They behaved inappropriately, jumping around, grabbing their own body parts, throwing unbelievable things. The crowd followed their lead. I even lost my seat.
The mass left quickly, mid performance, when gunfire rang out. It was a peaceful departure, no one trampled anyone, there wasn’t much pushing or shoving. It felt awkwardly like elementary school, single file lines leading to every emergency exit. That’s the way I would have chosen it had I been able to determine the aftermath of my actions.
I was the only one in the venue, now.
I managed to wade through the litter and trash strewn down the aisles, making my way to the stage.
And… there he was, the reason for it all……..
“Come here little guy.” He was balled up behind one of the colossal speakers that belted out the electric guitar I liked. The way they tossed him from person to person in the audience and up to the performers made me wonder how he was still living, tiny fella; skin and bones.
I gently reached my hand out to see if he would accept my help. “Meow.” When he licked my fingers, I knew he was okay. I gently scooped him up and put him inside my coat.
“Sir, possible active shooter!” A guy in all black with a giant shield took me by the arm and rushed me and my new friend to safety. Those big men wouldn’t know that I shot in the air to make the people stop, I stuck my gun in a lady’s open tote on her way to the door. Maybe someone would’ve noticed but they weren’t paying attention. Momma told me to watch my surroundings and protect those who cannot protect themselves. Not everyone has a good momma like me.
Leesa Writes 