Shots Fired!
Nothing Beats Home
My name is Demontez Shepard and I’m a 16-year-old student from Louisville, Kentucky. I wanted to share my story because it was really significant to me and I think gun violence is a common problem in poverty. I believe my story can help others feel like they are not alone, and like they can escape this horrid lifestyle.
It was summer of 2020 and I had just recently turned 13. It was a pretty good day before night came and I was in bed. Then loud booming noises traveled all throughout the house. It was gunshots.
Both me and my brother, who shared a bunk bed, quickly dropped to the floor. One bullet in my room was so close to the bed that if it had penetrated enough, it would’ve hit my brother. Three bullets in the kitchen, one in the downstairs bathroom, one in the laundry room, one in the downstairs bedroom which held my two sisters and a female cousin in it, and one in the living room which my older brother was in.
Cops were called and searched the whole house for any evidence. They found bullet shells but nothing enough to find a possible suspect. Once they left and everybody calmed down, I couldn’t sleep. I contemplated sleeping on the floor just in case before I eventually I got tired and fell asleep. We talked with my brother and he brushed it off as if it was normal. I guess it was normal for him but not to us. Our lives were in danger and I couldn’t just live with that. Every day I went to school I had to watch my back and remember cars because there was someone watching me walk home.
A few months before this event happened, my brother came home bloody and in a sweat. My grandmother asked him what happened and he explained how he had just been shot at. They missed but he fell and scraped some of his skin. He lost his shoes while running but got them back.
Before that, in 2018, my cousin was shot two blocks down from my school. We had a lockdown in school and I didn’t know why. Once I left school and was told by my brother what had happened, I cried. He was shot because of a mistaken identity.
After that I could never feel safe in my own neighborhood. Everybody knew my grandma, everyone loved her. But when this happened, people got distant and quiet. It truly showed who cared and who was fake.
Another thing that raised my paranoia: I was going to the store with my brother and he suddenly moved me behind him, almost like he was hiding me or protecting me from something. I asked no questions and followed directions. I’ve always looked up to my brother, not for his lifestyle but for his loyalty. He always was a good brother, he had great qualities but made horrible decisions. To see him in danger and us in danger really took a toll on me.
After the first time our house was shot at, everything was back to normal…until it wasn’t. This time I was in the shower, scrubba dub dubbin, then suddenly heard more loud booms. I instantly got out of the shower and got dressed to see what happened. My brother was at the front door and they saw that, rode past and fired what sounded like four shots. They missed all four. This shook me because they saw him with their own eyes and didn't just take random shots at the house.
After this time we didn’t call the police, we instead called family. We needed protection expeditiously and we knew we couldn’t stay there much longer. We grabbed everything we could; food, clothes, entertainment, phones, everything. We packed up and went to a hotel. We weren't allowed to take videos, weren’t allowed to call anyone nor were we allowed to post on social media. We took full precaution. There was a pool in this hotel that we would go to swim almost daily. Occasionally we had visitors, just our cousins. We played UFC tournaments because there wasn’t much to do at the hotel and this kept us entertained.
But we couldn’t stay in this hotel forever, so we thought of a plan. We could go to Chicago. We had family in Chicago who we could stay with, so we made our way there and stayed with my aunt. Eventually we had to bring our stuff with us, so we rented a storage unit and kept everything there. A lot of stuff was left in Louisville and almost all of my favorite clothes were stolen. So while in Chicago, I had no coat so my aunt bought me a thin hoodie. It was all I had so I had to make it work. It was hard having so many people in one house but we did it.
In Chicago, I got addicted to skateboarding. There were multiple skateparks within walking distance so I would go almost every day. I got pretty decent at skateboarding and I wanted to stay in Chicago forever. But after maybe four months of trying to find a house in Chicago, we realized that we were losing all the government funds from Louisville, so we had to make a choice: Either go back to Louisville, or stay in Chicago. We decided to make our way back to Louisville.
It was a long and expensive process. We had to unpack everything from the storage and rent a U-Haul to transport our stuff back to Louisville. We stayed with another aunt for about three months. This was around Christmas time. Staying at this aunt's house was a lot easier than my other aunt. It’s a familiar place. Everything was pretty smooth there, not many problems.
After Christmas we found a house, so it was time to move again. The house we had to move out of was two stories with four bedrooms, three bathrooms and a basement. It was the perfect house. The house I live in now is one story, three bedrooms and one bathroom. Currently, eight people live in this house.
I do fear that some day they might come back for my brother. Currently he’s in jail so for now I’m just worrying about when he’s getting out. Being back in Louisville is better because it’s home. Being in Chicago was great because everything was within walking distance, but nothing beats home. I feel safer now that I don’t live with my brother and don’t live in the west end. I say that because my brother never discontinued the lifestyle he was living. I just feel a lot safer when I’m not around him all the time. I do miss him but it’s for my own good.
In the home I’m in now, it’s very tight but we make it work. After everything that happened, I learned to live with what I have. It’s ok to feel a certain way or feel like you don’t have enough. Just acknowledge that other people might have even less.
Thank you for telling your story. I hope your new life, even in the crowded house, is better-- and safer. You are very brave and courageous. I agree with Stacey Black. The trials we survive make us stronger and more mature individuals. Wiser too. Best of luck to you and all my good wishes.
What a story! I can't imagine all the fear involved. You sound very brave and I'm sure it will all work for you, what we go through younger, keeps us stronger older, thanks for sharing.