Kory Roberts
I didn’t do nothing to nobody. I was like, OK, today’s my birthday, so I’m gonna go celebrate. I was gonna go to my sister’s house. So I left [my place], and I guess I chose to take the wrong path, and walked through the back alley. It was right behind my sister’s house, so it’s not uncommon [for me to go that way]. So I just walked past the corner, and someone jumps out on me. He said, “Whatchoo got?” and I’m like, “Yo, man, I don’t have nothing. Only thing I got is liquor.”
Before I even had my hands up, he shot me right here in the hand (points to the tip of his left index finger). If you look at my finger, it’s a little bit smaller than the other one. Then he shot me again [in the same hand], and I was like, “What the hell?” I don’t know why he’s shooting at me. Soon as I turned my back [to run], there was just a whole bunch of bullets. Right before I cut that corner, there were so many bullets. I turned and looked and there was just so much fire. . . . [I thought], He’s getting ready to kill me.
I turned the corner, and a bullet ripped through my chest and went across into my arm and came out the backside at my elbow. Then two went in my leg. I would have been fine if that [first] bullet didn’t hit me in the leg. When it hit me, it shattered the bone. All 200 pounds of me just went down. There’s nothing I could do. I was lying there, and he kept still walking up on me, just shooting. That’s how I got these bullet holes in the back of my leg. Pop, pop, pop. [I thought], This boy’s gonna run up on me and shoot me in the head, and there’s nothing I can do. With my right leg gone, all I could do was lay there. You know the only reason he didn’t kill me? (laughs) He ran outta bullets! I heard three more clicks, and I was like, Yo, he’s outta bullets.
It hurt like a son of a bitch. It hurts, it burns, so you gotta try to stay awake so you don’t go into shock. My heart was beating so fast in my chest. I could have died so easily. I would have said nothing to nobody, and just closed my eyes and died in that alley. I thought I was gonna die a couple of times before we even got to the hospital. I should have been dead . . . shot that many times.
I think the most damage was done to my legs. I had a shattered femur. They cut me right here (points to his hip), and put a rod in my leg from here all the way to my knee. Sometimes in the morning . . . the pain be so bad . . .
For the first time in my life, I know how to hate. I know exactly how to hate. I carry a lot of residual anger. I can’t lie and say that I don’t. You think about someone tried to kill you. It’s not a fight . . . it’s not like we fighting back and forth. Motherfucker tried to kill me. So how would I not have no residual anger from that?
I’m real happy with the work the police have done [on solving my case]. I didn’t want to go back out on the streets and hurt someone and have that on my head. So next week I’m going to court to testify against the people who shot me. This guy can’t try to kill me and think he can get away with it. No way . . . no way. The closer I get to the court date, the more nervous I get about being out in the neighborhood.
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March 8, 1931-Dec. 25, 2009
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