Armed Robbery

God, please don't shoot. Please, please, please don't shoot.

That's the only thought running through my mind as I feel the cold barrel of the pistol against my temple. I can't help but try to look out of the corner of my eye to see the expression of my aggressor, turning my head as much as I can to actually see him. The veins of the grey-hooded figure are popping out of his neck, his forehead is covered in sweat, his teeth are bared. Neither of us is moving a muscle, just breathing in and out heavily as we absorb the gravity of this situation.

I should have just let go of my wallet. I should have just let him have it, get out of there, and spend a day out of my weekend canceling my credit card. But no, instead, I decided to attempt to incapacitate him. Of course, my punch did nothing to throw him off and didn't even result in any damage to his face. In fact, I damaged myself, with the pain of the impact being strong enough to bruise afterward. I didn't even think about the idea that he would have been armed. He looks about my age, in his early twenties at most, what kind of twenty-year-old has a pistol, even in the heart of New York City? Apparently, he does.

He's only been pinning me down to the ground for about five seconds now, but it's felt like two minutes have passed by. There's nothing I can do. His grip is both strong and precise. Even if I actually worked out and had the muscles necessary to fight back properly, I still don't think I would be able to push him off of me. I'm lucky he's not breaking my arm with the force he's using to keep it pinned to my back. This is the moment where I die, isn't it? Why did I try and use this alleyway as a shortcut? I know alleyways aren't smart places to go down, why did I go down to shave, at most, a minute off of my time to get to school? I should have just gone my normal path.

Ten seconds later, the guy goes, "Well, are you gonna hand it over?"

I don't say anything. I can't say anything.

"Suit yourself." Suddenly, with no warning or provocation, he pulls the trigger. In a split second, everything should have ended. But I'm still alive. This wasn't a fake-out. This wasn't a bluff. The idiot forgot to load his gun. Adrenaline suddenly kicks in all at once, and I take advantage of my opportunity while he's momentarily distracted. With no thought whatsoever, I push myself off of the ground, forcing him off of me. He tumbles onto his back, and I get up and run for it. I don't care if I call the police. I don't care if he doesn't get arrested. I just want to survive. I run to the school as quickly as I possibly can, never once looking back as my heart beats out of my chest. Once I think I've gotten far enough away, I stop and lean myself on a trash can, breathing the heaviest I've ever breathed in my life.

I think about how lucky I truly am. I was that close to actually dying in the middle of nowhere, and somehow, I managed to find a moment to get out and get away. I walk shakily the rest of the way. That's the last time I'm taking that path.