A boy finds his fathers gun
This idea submitted by WhoKilled.tumblr.com
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It looked new, exciting, that black steel, and he was more than eager to take it out of the box under his father’s bed. 3 weeks ago he found it there, and 3 weeks he waited. Now was the time. It’s not that the love was bad, it was fine, but maybe that was the reason. Just fine. Not great— just fine. He wondered if this was the way every boy felt when they found their fathers gun.
It was cold to the touch. On his fingertips, smooth and cold. In the movies the badguys aim and shoot, and the goodguys aim and shoot back, the difference being that the goodguys only aim at the badguys. A heavy thing it was too, almost too heavy to handle gracefully, he found as he took it from the box. “What am I going to shoot first?” his mind fluttered. “Am I a goodguy or a badguy?”
He closed the empty box, and slid it back under the bed. In his room he aimed at a teddy bear that his aunt had given him last Christmas. It wasn’t the kind of toy he normally liked to play with, it didn’t make any noise or shoot any lasers. And so it was retired to the corner of his room, a stuffed bear without any purpose, a bear which received no playtime from him. Just a part of the background. He steadied his aim, imagining the bear to be a prisoner blindfolded and he the firing squad. He closed one eye, jutted out his tongue. His heart beating faster and faster. “Say your prayers!” He shouted at the bear. He pulled the trigger, and the nose of the bear became wet. His aim was spot on.
He wondered if all boys felt like this when they found their birthday present 3 weeks too early.
