Massachusetts, USA

April 6, 2016

I started at Tech last year, and I study computer programming. I'm not from around here, and I don't know many people yet, so I was just hanging out alone on campus that day. It was lunchtime, and I was eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Tech is a big school, you know, so there is always something going on in the yards. 

A couple of kids were sitting across the way, reading books under a tree. Some guys were playing with a Frisbee. A hot blonde girl was walking a dog, and the track and field team was training. Plus, there were a couple of cars parked along Amherst Alley. I was looking at my phone, not paying attention, until I heard a commotion behind me. So I turned around to see what it was.  

That's when I saw those two guys fighting. One guy was rather tall, and he was wearing an orange T-shirt and cargo shorts. The other guy had on jeans and a black hoodie. They were struggling with each other; the guy in orange was losing the fight. I could see the man in the hoodie trying to pull the guy in orange towards Amherst. 

So I got up and started walking towards them to get a better view of the fight. When I got closer to them, this 3rd guy jumped out of a parked van. It had one of those sliding van doors, you know? The kind where the whole side of the truck opens up. The door was open, and I could see no seats in the back of the car. It was just empty and had a grey interior.

So this guy jumps out of it, waving a shotgun. He looked me right in the eyes, pointed the gun at me and screamed for me to get the *** out of there.

It was the most enormous shotgun I'd ever seen. It must have been used for hunting moose or something. It was grey and army green. The barrel was really long and grey, and the part where the trigger was was army green. It wasn’t shiny, you know, like the colour was flat, but the thing looked brand new. 

The guy had his finger on the trigger. I remember he was wearing a silver ring on the trigger finger. It must have been his right hand because that's the one holding the gun. His hands looked greasy and dirty. There was lots of black dirt under his fingernails as if he were a mechanic or something. He had actual stubby fingers; it looked like he chewed off all his fingernails.

So he is looking at me, pointing the gun at me, and I’m looking at him. He had messy blonde hair, and honestly, he didn't look like he was joking. So I took off running across the yard and into the building.

Sincerely,

Jason Storey