Jeff and I were fairly normal siblings growing up. Maybe a little closer than most since we are only 15 months apart in age. I was the typical somewhat bratty little sister who always wanted to tag along with Jeff and his friends. He was generally willing to let me go with them if they weren't looking to try to get girls. Looking back, especially after current events, I guess I sort of had a crush on him.
As teens we were complete opposites. I was a skinny little nerd with glasses and very few friends. Jeff was a very popular jock with a magnetic personality. There were always girls wanting to go out with him, but he was very selective. He told me once that he wanted a girl that was smart and self-confident, not the slutty cheerleader-type girls that threw themselves at him.
After Jeff went to college he still made sure to keep in contact with me. He'd tell me how his freshman year in college was going, then he'd ask how my senior year was going. When it came time for me to choose a college (full academic scholarship, by the way), Jeff convinced me to go to the college he attended.
The three years we were in college together were great! We hung out a lot. At first I was shy about getting out there and making friends. Jeff convinced me to go to a local club with him. We went there a few nights each week. A few months went by and I finally started getting comfortable with meeting new people. I soon began dating on a regular basis.
By the time my freshman year ended I dated probably a dozen different guys. I went pretty far with a few but never did go all the way to sex. None could compare to the mental image of my perfect guy. I never could pinpoint what it was that was missing from the guys I dated. I began to wonder if I'd ever find him.
Fast-forward to after college. Jeff and I both lived back in the city where we grew up. Jeff worked as a High School teacher and football coach. I worked as an accountant. It started out as a really enjoyable career but soon I began to dread going to the office each day.
Two years into my career I made a decision. I needed a change. It took a month of soul-searching but I decided what I needed to do. Jeff was the one I called first. I dialed his number and he picked up.
"Hey Christy. What's up?"
"I need to talk to you about something, Jeff. Do you have a few minutes?"
"Sure! School let out early today. Are you okay?"
"Yeah. I just made a decision about my career. I've been so down lately. I'm starting to hate my job."
"Well, whatever it is I support you, no matter what, sis."
"I wanna become a cop."
"That's incredibly awesome!! I'm proud of you."
I wish my parents were as proud as Jeff was. They tried so hard to get me to change my mind. It didn't do any good. My mind was made up. I envied police officers and how they put their lives on the line. I felt that I had to do whatever I could do to become a cop. I try to help people whenever I can. As a cop I can do more. The police academy was a breeze. I aced all of my tests and was getting close to graduating with honors. I was getting offers to join the police forces in our city and in each of the neighboring communities. Then something happened that changed my life and led me to fall in love with my perfect guy.
It was a perfectly normal Spring morning. I completed the final exam I had left then I went to the shooting range. I got there at 10:30 and got my gun ready. The last thing I remember is raising my gun up to aim at the target.
I woke up and I began to panic. I looked around and saw Jeff sitting on a chair sleeping. I tried to figure out what was wrong on my own so I wouldn't have to wake him.
I looked down at my left arm and saw a bandage around my elbow. Below the bandage was nothing. No forearm, no hand. I looked at my other arm. It was still there, but two fingers on my right hand seemed to be missing.
I did as any normal person would do in my situation. I panicked. Jeff immediately got up and rushed to me. He put his arm around me to console me. Once I calmed down he told me what happened.
It turns out the ammo I put into my gun was faulty. When I pulled the trigger the gun exploded. The damage done to my arm was so extensive that it couldn't be saved. The index and ring fingers on my right hand were caught in the blast and couldn't be saved either. Needless to say we filed a lawsuit against the ammunition company.
I was unconscious for eight days from the explosion. The doctor explained everything he did and everything I'd need to re-learn. A social worker also sat and talked to me. She explained that I would need a lot of help for quite a while until I could learn how to be independent again.
I talked to Jeff and my parents and told them what she said. I asked them to help find someone to help me. Jeff said it was already taken care of. He told me something that made me feel like I have the best brother a person could ever hope for.
Jeff said, "I have everything set up. You'll live with me in my house. I talked to your landlord last week and told him you'd be out by the end of the month. I got all of your stuff boxed up and they'll be moved to my house by the end of the week."
