ROTM 2009.23 1 E. Are you proud of yourself?
Mun note: this ficlet is AU&RP-based
When I was eight years old, my stepfather taught me how to handle firearms.
It was Saturday. My father (I called him “father” or “dad” although I never stopped regarding this man as a stranger) took me in his car and we departed.
We usually had family outings at weekends, but this time dad left his wife and daughter at home.
He drove. We both kept silence. I pressed my face to the car window gazing blankly at the road. There were a lot of small dead animals on the roadside - squirrels, chipmunks, once I even spotted a little dog. They all had been killed by trucks.
Dad stopped the car near a waste ground; there were huge stones dotted all over it. He told me to get out of the car.
I hung about watching him place a few empty cans on a stone. Then he pulled out his gun and began to explain how to use it.
“Now watch carefully what I’m doing!” he said
He concentrated, pointed the gun at the improvised target and pulled the trigger. It produced a loud “bang!” but nothing happened, daddy missed his aim. He made a small sound of disappointment and held out the gun to me.
“Your turn!”
For some reason, I remembered dead animals on the road and started feeling squeamish. Holding awkwardly the gun between my palms I pressed my finger to the trigger. It went off. To my great surprise, a can jumped high and tumbled in the air. I hit the target.
My stepfather grinned. He never laughed and smiled rarely, but now he just beamed with joy and pride.
“So…that’s good. Very good. Are you proud of yourself?”
I only shrugged. Honestly, I felt sick and tired but I wasn’t proud at all.
I didn’t think at the time that afterwards, when I grew up to be a man, I would have to use my gun again.
Words: 322
Fandom: Saw
Muse: Zep Hindle