Three times, Adrian Pracon prepared to die on Utoya island, a Norwegian paradise turned to hell Friday. Friends he laughed with earlier in the day fell one by one in a gunman’s hail of fire.
He survived to tell a horrifying tale. Continue reading and watch the video after the jump.
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When the shooting started Friday afternoon, many of the 600 people at the ruling Labour Party’s youth camp ran down a hill and to the water. The shooter came after them, screaming.
“You are all going to die!”
Pracon was one of the last ones remaining between the shooter and the water and didn’t have time to take his heavy clothes or boots off. About 100 meters into the chilly water, he realized he would not make it. He would drown with all that weight.
“I felt I couldn’t breathe. I already swallowed too much water,” he said. “I felt the clothes pulling me down.”
He managed to swim back to shore and crouched behind a boulder with others. But the gunman found him. He was so close that Pracon could see down the barrel of his weapon. He was sure to get a direct hit. Pracon thought he was going to die.
Another survivor, Otzar Fagerheim, described the gunman as having blond hair and pale skin. He carried three guns, he said. At times, he shot those guns with disarming calm, like he was shooting photographs. He even smiled, Fagerheim said.
Pracon was surprised to hear the shooter speaking Norwegian. He was certain a compatriot could never commit such a heinous act.
Pracon spoke back. “Do you want to hurt a fellow Norwegian? Please, no. Don’t shoot.”
Miraculously, the gunman pointed his weapon away. Instead, he aimed for those who were desperately trying to swim to safety. As though Pracon was too easy a target. As though it was more satisfying to shoot at a group of fleeing people, Pracon thought.
He heard his friends begging for help. Some fell limp on Pracon.
The gunman went away but returned to find Pracon again, hiding with about 10 others. The madness started again.
More rounds of gunfire. He could hear so many of them say: “Please don’t shoot me.” One by one, their voices were silenced.
A woman next to him was shot in the leg. Pracon could see her wound was gaping.
Pracon clung to the dead. Tried to play dead. It was the only way he knew to survive.
He heard footsteps getting closer. He could hear the heavy breathing of the man. Then, “boom!”
Pracon’s world fell silent. His hearing was gone. But he could feel intense pain on the back of his left shoulder. He bore it, lay face down, and kept perfectly still.
“I am sure he intended to hit me in the head,” Pracon said.
The gunman missed by inches.
