Pizza and Coffee

it starts off the same. my dream i mean. waking up off the floor of an unknown apartment. my own, maybe. last nights pizza and coffee taste still lingering in my tongue. an ashtray the size of mt everest is still smoldering. the tv is on, its the morning news. nothing good as usual. the gears in my brain try to work out whats going on, but im met with the throbbing pain of a freshly closed bullet hole my left shoulder. 2 inches lower and i wouldnt be telling this story. getting up was no easy task with one arm, especially after youve downed one to many hydrocodone pills. it all made sense.

i crawl across the floor to the couch and use it as leverage to get me up. i was a shitty mess. someone took the time to help me change into my soccer shorts. i thanked whoever that brave soul was in my head. the flashbacks started, and it was something i didnt want to relive.

the previous night i was on patrol with someone i could never put a face to, and i couldnt tell you what city im in if my life depended on it. we were responding to a traffic-stop-turned-shootout call in an apartment complex. the officers in need of assistance were close by. we get there and take cover next to the other cops. i didnt know how many subjects there were, my mind went into survival mode. i tell my partner that we should out flank them. he agrees and we make a run for the next apartment unit. we then separate, i take the right, he takes the left of the building. one of the first rules of police work is to NEVER split up. i was about to learn why.

we were about to meet up on the other side of the building when i hear gunfire being exchanged. i see my partner shoot a subject in the leg and neutralize him, now going in for the arrest. i follow from a distance when all of a sudden a shadow from the alley comes out and shoots him point blank in the neck. time seemed to speed up, because in a few seconds i exchanged bullets with the shadow and got hit myself, but i took him down.

i never remembered the rest. i see myself falling an immense pain that it almost felt real. no bulletproof vest. it weighed me down. apparently i blacked out from loss of blood. when i asked about my partner, he was dead at the seen. my stomach dropped and i let out a tired and bloody whimper. i failed.



 thats when i wake up. i felt like total shit when i did. the dream felt so real. the pain, the nausea, the emotions. unfortunately i cant recreate my dream through words, but if i could capture it on film, i wouldnt be able to watch it. im a few months away from beginning my career as a cop. im gonna do it, there's no stopping me. but this dream made me realize: this is real shit. the dream was a warning sign to something i may one day experience, and i hope i never do. and its just the murder of my friend im talking about. this dream incorporates my biggest fear of all: failure. i failed to protect him. it was my idea to separate. i should have stayed close. i let him down. i let his family down. i let myself down. i cant fail in my job. i have zero margin for error. im mentally preparing myself to see some of the worst crimes ever committed. it feels like my moral duty for me to start out as a cop. i have nothing to lose, so why not protect the people who do? i work for the people, and thats who i have to protect. not just my friends and family, but everyone.