Suddenly, a crowd begins to run down the sidewalk towards us. I hear several loud bangs and screaming. “He’s got a gun! Get down!” A man shouts and he runs towards us. I drop Charlie’s popsicle on the ground and grab his hand. He starts to cry. “My popsicle!” He cries, tears welling up in his eyes. I yank on his hand, begging him to run with me. “Charlie, we’ll get a new one we have to go!” I yell at him over the roar of the crowd. I hear a few more shots and louder screaming. My heart thumps out of my chest. I look for a safe place to hide. Charlie wiggles his hand out of my palm and begins to run towards the popsicle. “Charlie!” I call out his name. I try to make my way through the crowd but no one seems to budge. Charlie easily sneaks through the sea of people. “Charlie!” I shout again, pushing myself as hard as I can against the crowd. They push me forward and urge me to continue running in the opposite direction. I silently pray that Charlie will be okay. I finally manage to shove myself into the crowd and run to where I last saw my son. I drop to my knees when I find a half melted popsicle on the sidewalk, and my son is gone. I wake up screaming.
Do you think the writing in this scene is too repetitive? If so, is there anything I could add to make it less repetitive?