”A late night in Manhattans streets, I walked with my dog, alone in the silent night. I love to go by myself or with my dog. I used to do it with my girlfriend [NAVN B], but she died of cancer in her lungs. I walked for hours that day, more than I am used to do, before I looked at the clock, and decided to go home. When I could see my house, I heard a shot. It was, maybe 10 seconds away from me. My head, said that I should go home, but still. I wanted to help. I decided, quickly to go over there and look. Just for a minute. There. Right between two lampposts. A man in black stood there, three meters away from me, with a gun pointing at a man, laying on the ground, weeping. I fell sorry about him. But I didn’t know what he had done. He looked, just like a normal guy. He looked at me and wept even more. The man with the gun looked at me too, now. I wanted to run, but it was [NAVN C] my best friend, who was the man with the gun. I was shocked. I could see blood from his knee. Why would my best friend shoot another guy? I stood before my best friend, face to face. “Why?” I asked him. “Why?” He screamed right in my face. “I wanted to go to a party, but he wouldn’t let me in.” [NAVN C] said and pointed at the man. “And then I asked nicely, but he didn’t respond to that. Then came a lot of girls, from my class and they could just get in. it was fine with him.” “Why?” I asked again. “You cannot just shoot a guy, because he wouldn’t let you in?” “Why wouldn’t you let him into the party?” “He’s drunk!” the man said. “Is that right?” I asked. “[NAVN C]?” “NO!” [NAVN C] laughed. “He is drunk” the man said. “I’m not drunk”, [NAVN C] said. Then the shot came. Nothing to do. The man had been shot by [NAVN C]. [NAVN C] was really drunk! I could see it on him. I took the gun out of his hand and pointed at him with it… I shot. I looked at him and cried. I lost my best friend that night. – Says [NAVN A], 20 years old.
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