Page 4 of Mistaken Identity
She looked back at me, her head hanging backward off my bed, and stared at me through her one seeing eye.
The rest of it…
Her face…
Half her face…
Her hand reached for a gun that I hadn’t seen until now.
Her eye was pleading with me.
Get the gun…
Get the gun…
I walked over, pulled the gun away from her hand, and ignored the way my feet squelched in the carpet that was covered in blood.
Once I was sure that she couldn’t reach the gun anymore, I left the room and dialed 9-1-1.
I was sick to my stomach, and though I stayed in the room, I couldn’t look at the bed behind me.
Not that I’d ever forget what it looked like.
Half my mom’s face was just…gone.
I could see her jaw…from the inside.
I…
“9-1-1. What’s your emergency?” the dispatcher said quickly and efficiently.
“Um, this is Audric Ingram, my address is 33445 Pleasant Green Road. My mom shot herself in the face, and she’s still alive,” I said, my words tasting like sawdust on my tongue.
A whimper from behind me.
I closed my eyes tight as the 911 operator continued to ask questions.
What’s her name. Date of birth. Is the gun still in her reach. What was my dad’s name.
That one also felt like a punch to the gut.
“My dad’s name is Carter Ingram,” I said quietly. “He’s a firefighter and paramedic for Dallas Fire Department.”
I heard the sirens within minutes and listened to the dispatcher practically beg me to turn around and help my mother.
I couldn’t do it, though.
No way was I looking at her again.
I just couldn’t…
The door to the house burst open, and I knew that my father had finally arrived.
“Audric!” my dad bellowed.
I hurried to him, hanging up on the dispatcher.
Dad rounded the corner of the hall that would lead to the bedrooms, and I slammed into him.
