Trying Not to Remember

Look, I know you don't know me and that you probably think I'm already nuts for coming up to you like this and just jib-jabbering away without even introducing myself, but right now I just need to you listen to what just happened to me because I need to tell someone this.
So I was in line at the bank and there's this woman to the right of me and she's saying something about parrots to her daughter who was wearing these little pink sneakers - sneakers. I can't believe I remembered the freaking sneakers. I mean, who does that? There were little silver stars on the toes of them and she was so quiet, even when everyone started screaming. And quiet before the screaming, during the tense, humid silence that practically drowned everyone together.
I was watching some cashier argue quietly with an elderly man when there was a really loud snapping sound, or maybe it was more of a popping sound, but it was loud and everyone got really quiet and turned to the door and there he was, this man with a mask and a small but heavy-looking gun. And then there were more snapping and popping noises and he blew out all the cameras he could see, sending little glass bits everywhere in the air and on people. And he told everyone to shut up and listen but we all were doing that anyway, and he jogged over to the tellers and told them to get him his money, but they were already doing that too.
So it all was smooth, you know? The man, he got his money, and all of us inside were shut up and listening, and it was good. Clean, successful robbery. Nobody was hurt. But then the guy, he just, he just, he just like flipped or something, man. He looked and looked and looked at all that money he had in his hands and then he looked up at the cameras and looked at every single freaking person in the bank, right into their eyes, and something turned heavy. Like, the silence, I said it was humid, right? Well, that's what I mean. Thick, tangible quiet.
And he threw the bag into the air all wild-like but then sat down like, like as calm and sacred as a monk, all cross-legged. Then he opened his mouth real wide and shoved the barrel inside and I heard it click against his teeth but not for long because then his finger tensed around the trigger and the bullet - it went right through the top of his head, man. I mean, there was blood everywhere. Brain bits, too. If you've never seen watery brain bits before, you should feel pretty good about that. I don't think that's something we're really meant to see.
And all I wanted to do was go home, but right after it happened sirens got loud and people started acting hysterical and they kept us there for way too long because we didn't know anything or do anything wrong. So we had to stare at this man's slumped body with flesh draping his neck area and we really had time, you know, to ingest it all and remember it. Because I do.
I also remember the little girl in line, who was so quiet and good and listened to her mother rant about parrots, and I think about how she'll remember the robber too, and what it felt like to get splattered with death. And remembering's something not hard to do. I can't stop remembering it, myself.