The Heroism of an Average Citizen

An action packed short story in an unlikely place.

I rushed over to the cash register, reacting to his waving of the gun, and started handing him the money. I was trying to think of something I could do to stop him from stealing from my coffee shop. He was a large, burly, and intimidating man. But hot coffee is hot coffee, the amount of muscle you have won’t protect you from the 3rd degree burns of hot coffee being splashed on your face. I decide to make an attempt to retake control of my store. My mother passed this coffee shop down to me, and I’ll be damned if this criminal thinks he can come in here and rob us. As soon as he turns his head, I’m going to slam this pot of coffee right into his face.  He screams “Put the f*****g money in the bag!” pulling me out of my thoughts, I comply, pulling out what little money is left in the register, appearing to be scared, because well, I am scared. I grab the last bit of the money and hand it to him “There, that’s all that’s in there.” He looks down at it, “Don’t try to short hand me, I know you have more somewhere” he snatches it from me and looks me in the eye. “No, that’s all that is there, most people use debit card” He aims the gun at me and says “Fine, give me your wallet.” He is really beginning to irritate me, but I comply waiting for my moment, eying the coffee pot two feet away from me. I hand him my wallet and he turns to run out, but before he does I reach over to grab the coffee pot off of the burner and throw it across the counter into his face, watching the glass shatter and the hot coffee splash onto his scruffy face. I don’t have time to stand and watch for long, I jump across the counter, tackling him to the ground and start smashing my fists into his face, feeling the glass cut my hand open.  I have so much adrenaline pumping through my veins that I don’t even think about trying to grab the gun he still has in his hand, that is a mistake I will pay dearly for, he lifts the gun up and before I can even think about reacting, he fires. BANG!

I feel a painful sensation in my right arm after he fires the gun, and fall off. He stands up and aims the gun down at me reaching towards his face, feeling the pain of the cuts and beating I gave him, blood dripping onto the ground from his face. He’s enraged, and starts kicking me. Everyone is just watching, not making a move, except for one woman who is screaming her head off. “Shut up!” He aims the gun at her “Shut up or I will shoot you!” But she can’t help herself, she just keeps wailing away,  panicking, sobbing. He snarls and stomps off towards her grabbing her throat “I will end your life if you don’t shut the hell up!” She screams even louder, and raises the pistol, then smacks her hard across the jaw with it, “Night night.” He raises the pistol up to her face and squeezes the trigger. I can’t see anything going on, all I can hear is a loud bang and then something that sounds a lot like a sack of potatoes falling onto the ground. No one says a word, all you can hear is his heavy breathing, wondering what’s about to happen next. Meanwhile, my arm is bleeding, I’m holding it tight trying to stop it, but the wound just keeps draining me of my life force. He turns his attention back on me and says in a surprisingly calm voice “You’re next.”  I hear the footsteps of him walking over to me and I raise my head to see the woman lying on the floor with her lifeless eyes open, staring right into mine. I’m beginning to feel light headed and I know that there’s not much fight left in me. Despite my efforts, I’m bleeding and there’s not a whole lot I can do about it. There’s a large puddle of blood around where I’m lying. He walks up to me, picks up the bag of cash and then looks down with the cuts in his face from the glass while aiming the gun at me “You put up a fight, but you really shouldn’t have” I see his arm muscles flex, knowing that at any second he’s going to squeeze the trigger and just like that woman, I’m going to die. All of a sudden someone leaps over the table separating him from everyone else and tackles him just like I did. Except this time the person

beating him into the ground knows to grab the gun. My hero stands and aims it at the thief’s head, fires two times and then approaches me. “Let me see your arm” he says as he tears a piece of his shirt off and ties it around my arm, not waiting for a response. “My wife has 911 on the phone, just hang in there with me buddy, the ambulance will be here soon.” I lay back down, resting my head and looking up at the ceiling. It’s over, it’s finally over.

Author's Note

This is the first story I've ever written, be brutally honest. I want to learn.