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Now available for preorder:
The San Francisco Panorama
.

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H O W   I M P O R T A N T
M O M E N T S   I N   M Y   L I F E
W O U L D   H A V E   B E E N
D I F F E R E N T   I F   I   W A S
S H O T   T W I C E
I N   T H E   S T O M A C H
A T   C L O S E   R A N G E .


BY JAKE SWEARINGEN

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BIRTH

The doctor tells my mother to push while she also tells the nurse to get my father. My mother has been in labor for nearly forty hours. My father rushes into the room, his face a mix of pure terror and pure joy. I come out, nearly dead from blood loss. I appear on both Oprah and Phil Donahue, being the only person ever shot twice in the stomach while still in the womb.

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WALKING FOR THE FIRST TIME

I stand up on shaky, little-boy legs, and then promptly fall over, a pool of my own blood spreading out from underneath me.

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FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL

I walk in, nervous and scared and wishing I could go back home, and then stumble backwards, clutching my stomach. "Aw Christ! Aw, shit!" I say as I knock over a chair, looking down as dark blood seeps from between my fingers.

I make three new friends that day.

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FIRST KISS

She is the girl in my Business Tech class from school, and we have met in the recreation room of my church. She is wearing some sort of fruity perfume, and her hair is tied back. I lean forward, and my breath is coming in shaky little gasps. Our lips touch, and then I cough twice, blood slowly leaking out of my mouth. I ask her to call an ambulance, goddamnit, I've been fucking shot. I sob quietly that I don't want to die here.

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GRADUATION

I walk across the stage, and shake the principal's hand while he hands my diploma. I collapse a few steps after, and the entire auditorium where graduation is being held goes deadly quiet. All you can hear is my girlish whimpering in pain, and begging for someone to just put me out of my misery, for the love of Christ.

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FIRST DAY OF COLLEGE

I step into my dorm, and greet my new roommate. We talk for a while, learning about each other. I then lurch backwards against the wall, a look of shock and pain on my face. My legs buckle beneath me, and I slump to the ground, my eyes staring off into nothing, but suddenly I don't look to be in pain. I look peaceful and almost happy, and I whisper, right before I go, "It's not the end, is it?"

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GETTING SHOT IN THE STOMACH AT CLOSE RANGE

This is actually pretty much the same.

 

 

OTHER McSWEENEY'S STORIES:
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My Daydreams, in Descending Order of Recurrence By George Long
The History of Karate By Morgan Hobbs
I Can Fly By Mark Davison
The Surprising Truth About My Young Cousin Josh, Being the Second Chapter in the Memoirs of a Former Professional Literary Agent; With Selected Questions Answered and Certain Promises Fulfilled By John Hodgman
The Needling and the Damage Not Done By Michelle Orange

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Memories of Amanda Davis




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