Creative Writing - Assignment 2
Creative Writing class, assignment 2. My classmates and I were each asked to write about a "brush with death," our own or someone else's. Many people know my related story. Here's another take on it.
Worst Music Video Ever
With Cher’s voice soft over a mellow guitar and timid percussion, the words don’t hurt. They’re blue. Remorseful. But not painful.
Bang Bang, I shot you down.
The better-known Nancy Sinatra cover is even further removed, like knee-high sexy boots at church.
Bang Bang, you hit the ground.
Only a rock version by UK artist Terry Reid delivers the wailing emotion I recall.
Bang Bang, that awful sound.
No, Cher’s well-covered lament is not about armed robbery. But that’s the music video playing on my mind’s MTV every time I hear ...
Bang Bang …
And there’s screaming. I'm unable to stand. A truck races away, headlights off. In a blackened parking lot. Fiery pain. Flashing lights. Then movement, less noise, for a few minutes.
Why did he shoot you?
Do you know the guy?
Are you a drug dealer?
Proving there are indeed stupid questions, the ER staff interrogates me.
Stop. Shit, this is unbelievable.
20 minutes before, a stranger held a pistol two inches from my forehead. He barked commands at me, like an irate music video director might.
The outcome was uncertain, but “Bang Bang” seemed inevitable.
I met Rocky Munoz in a Dallas courtroom six months and several knee surgeries later. I carried a cane; he wore handcuffs and carried no gun. I don’t want to remember his name. I don’t want to see his music video every day.
Bang Bang, my knee still hurts.