Susen Hunter

person breathe so intensely that
they could be heard through
a wall. I thought it must be
someone animalistic, feral, and
dangerous, possibly from drugs
or insanity. In my head, I kept
thinking, “Please, just go away.”
I threw the phone down
when 911 was still busy on the
second call. I again thought of
my daughter sleeping in her crib.
The banging was getting louder,
and more forceful. The breathing
was heavier, more excited
sounding. BANG! BANG! BANG!
to the bedroom where we kept
a blue-steel Ruger .22. I called
out to my husband twice, but he
continued to sleep. I checked
the safety and slid the clip in
place, before running back into
the living room.
I knew I was shaking too
badly to have much aim and I
needed to steady my hands.
The only thing between the
front door and my daughter’s
bedroom was an over-sized blue
chair. I dropped to my knees
and rested my arms on the chair
which helped steady my hands.
With my back to my daughter’s
room, I leveled the nose of the
gun with the mid-section of the
door. I ran through my head all
the gun safety rules that I had
been taught. Never point a gun
at someone unless you intend
on killing them. Always keep the
safety on unless you intend on
shook out my shoulders and
focused my aim. My daughter’s
steady breathing told me she
had resumed peaceful sleeping.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
I knew that I was shaking
violently enough that I would
probably miss a few shots,
but if I unloaded the full clip I
would at the very least injure the
person enough to protect my
child. I knew it was imperative
to wait until whoever it was
busted through the door before
Day” law required that a person
must be in my home before I
Furthermore, I needed the visual
for good aim and I wanted to see
the person I was going to kill. I
also considered that I was only
about eight feet from the door,
and that I would have to unload
the clip quickly. I could still hear
the banging, the breathing, but
could see the wall shake as if in
slow motion. There was a feeling
of imminent danger and resolve.
All I could think was, “My baby,”
while waiting on the person to
break through my door.
There was no question as
gun. My mind had grown cold,
and calculating; my motherly
instincts were reared back in full
force. I was as cocked as the
gun. I sat on my knees with my
metal loop that encompassed
the trigger so I would not
Suddenly, my neighbor from
next door’s voice permeated the
night, “Oh, God. Let me in. It’s
Chris.” Nose down, safety on.
Disengage. Reevaluate. I shook
my head.
I raced to the door with the
gun in my hand. He stood on the
other side panting, holding his
infant daughter to his chest and
a non-descript handgun hung
hand. He pushed in to the house
and shut the door behind him. I
knew him too well to be afraid;
it was not in him to hurt another
human. I took his baby, Makayla,
from him and he clutched his
chest trying to regain his breath.
He was obviously shaken. I told
him to sit down on the couch
while I carried his daughter in
and laid her next to mine in the
crib. She felt warm and smelled
of coco butter and baby power.
I laid her in the crib and the
babies snuggled against each
other peacefully. Snores came
from my bedroom where my
husband still slept oblivious to
the drama.
I returned to the living room
where my neighbor sat with his
elbows on his knees and the gun
hanging between his clasped
“She pulled a gun on me. We
the gun and was going to kill us,”
he said, speaking about his wife
as he looked across the room to
the doorway where the babies
slept.
He asked if he could leave
Makayla and the gun with me for
the night. I brought him a towel
from the hall cabinet to wrap his
gun in and I stashed it on the top
shelf of the cabinet. After he left,
I ejected the clip from my Ruger,
double checked the safety, and
put it back where it belonged. I
looked in on the sleeping girls
one last time and thought how
went to bed, I lay awake for a
long time looking at my bedroom
ceiling unable to sleep, listening
to the sound of Lawton purring
outside my window.
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