It was dark outside.  I was with my maternal Grandma Jane and my boyfriend Jeremy, maybe on a bridge.  Grandma Jane was to my left and Jeremy to my right.  Suddenly a shot was fired from somewhere behind Jeremy.  He wasn't hurt, but the bullet penetrated Grandma Jane's abdomen and she dropped to the ground.  I lifted her up best I could.  Although the shot was low, it had hit her lung.  More shots came, and I stood tall facing the direction of the bullets; if Jeremy and Grandma Jane were going to die, I wanted to die with them.  I didn't feel anything, but decided I had to have been hit in the fire.  We huddled together, crying, consoling, sad, and waiting to die.