Talk her down

She’s short with wavy shoulder length black hair, and fairly heavyset. The woman seems terrified you note, her arms are shaking and her face is stricken with panic.

“What are you doing?! Put the gun down!” you beg, seeing her finger on the trigger shaking along with her arms.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” she says in a panicked tone.

“I'm… I'm just looking! For someone, anyone! Please put the gun down and we’ll talk.” You try to say in a calm voice, which is difficult with a hysterical woman pointing a gun at you.

With your hands raised you take a few slow steps towards her. Suddenly a shot rings out and you feel an intense pain at the top of your right thigh, with a scream you drop to your knees.

“OH NO!” the big woman screams, glancing between her hands and you in disbelief.

“Argg! You shot me!” you scream at the woman, stating the obvious “You fucking shot me!?”

“It was an accident,” the woman shouts out “oh my god I'm sorry, I didn't mean..!”

Dropping the gun on the floor she runs over to you, shock and panic still plastered on her face.

“Are you okay? Oh god please tell me you’re okay!” she says to you, dropping to her knees staring at your thigh.

Moving your hand aside you see a small tear in your jeans, tensing your muscles you feel a slight tinge of pain but no pouring blood. Feeling inside the tear with your fingers you find only a slight scrape and barely any blood.

“It’s alright,” you say to the still shaking woman “it barely grazed me.”

“Oh thank god,” she says in relief.

“Why the hell would you pull a gun at me?” you shout at her.

“I heard you banging about in the office,” she says, almost in tears “you were between me and the exit. I didn't know who or what it was.”

“That’s no fucking reason to shoot me!” you shout back.

“I'm so sorry!” she says pleadingly “I found a gun back there. I mean I'm a woman alone, I wanted answers… I didn't know what you would do… Fuck it’s the first time I've held a gun!”

“It’s alright,” you reply “apart from tearing my jeans you've not done much damage”

Standing up you test your leg, apart from a little twinge of pain and a tiny limp you seem okay. Without a gun being waved at you, you take the opportunity to examine the woman. She weighs around 250lbs, her black shoulder length hair wavy hair is messy and obviously not combed. Her pretty round face is slightly wrinkled around her big doe like green eyes, you’d guess her age to be in the mid-40’s. She’s wearing black slacks and a thick white turtle-neck sweater that strains tightly against her enormous breasts. She’s not Hollywood beautiful by any measure but you still find her attractive, although you've always had a thing for big women.

“What’s your name?” you say to her in a calming tone, hoping to overcome her panic and fear of you.

“My… my name is Rebecca…” she replies in a slightly calmer tone. “Are you sure you’re alright?

“A little sore, I’ll limp for a few days but I think I’ll be fine,” you say reassuringly. “My name is Caleb, Caleb Monroe”

“I live just across the street with my daughter,” she says, “I'm a nurse, you can come back with me and I'll get that wound fixed up.”