Creative writing: Id, Ego, and Superego (second draft)
A couple of friends of mine and I lived at the suburbs in New Mexico which is close to the border. Not many people know, but the small town I lived in is under marshal law, which means it is rub by the military. One day, a couple of friends wanted to hang out by the open field near some huge rocks, which is a hangout spot for us. There is only one problem with the hangout spot; late at night the military does a route check through there. We always knew to leave there when it becomes too late, but tonight was a mistake. After having a couple of beers stolen from one of my friend’s drunken father, we did not think it was a bed idea at the time until after all of us were buzzed and lost track of time. One of my friends, Jim (short for jimmy), was drunk and acting really stupid, he got up and ran towards the military route checkup. I guess in his head he thought it would be funny to give the soldiers a scare. Two thoughts came to me: I can run to him and knock him down before he gets himself shot, with the chance of getting shot myself, or leave him and run with the rest of my friends before we get caught. To me it was one of the most scary and painful choices I made in my life. I ran towards him and knocked him down before he got to scream or try to scare the soldiers, but we still got found by them. All I heard for the next 15 minutes were screams and what I felt for the next 15 minutes were punches and kicks. For the next hours I felt nothing but pain until I knocked out. I woke up in the hospital two days later with my genius of a friend in the bed next to me, Of course both of us handcuffed to the bed. Do I regret running towards him? Of course not. My friend is still alive, but the two-year community service seemed a little too much since we got beat half to death