-----BEGIN PGP SIGNED MESSAGE-----
Hash: SHA256

- ---
title: "Target Practice"
date: "2019-03-28"
cover: /blog/target-practice-2e68ac5c8c3b.jpg
- ---

The handgun felt heavy, but was easy to hold. It was solid metal, cold, and dark.

I inspected the gun for safety. The clip was inserted properly, there were not any worrying scratches or damage, it was good.

I aimed the gun at the target poster, a generic body silhouette with a red oval in the center of the chest and lines in orderly distances around it. I turned the safety off.

I shot my first shot, a single loud bang, followed by a minimal echo. I hit the upper left part of number seven, not bad for my first, usually I miss the body and just hit the white part of the poster.

I shot again, an eight this time, but to the upper-right.

Another shot, hit on the red, and another, and another directly to the torso.

I focused more. I adjusted right a small bit, directly to the heart, and another, and another, and another.

I aimed up, I hit the upper neck, then the forehead, then directly on the face.

I shot again, directly to the face. The sound started to numb. I shot again, and again both to the head. Anger brewed within me.

I shot another time, straight on the bridge of the nose.

I had one bullet left, I stopped, and leaned against the wall in front of me. I breathed, and cried.

I put the gun to the underside of my head, and hovered over the trigger. I felt I was a failure. I felt hopeless.

I pulled the trigger. I didn't even hear the gunshot.
-----BEGIN PGP SIGNATURE-----

iHUEARYIAB0WIQRQK6VhPrFaFJjB1prNmlHz2knPFgUCZQT52gAKCRDNmlHz2knP
FmjdAQCAK3rM6aCmc7zy/h9fy44LwWrGhMKp3jsV9oFlmaexBwD+L7m6i2nd0v1Z
oa9dJTcAKZTFWiPaYzJP19qz5jKVpAI=
=/xjg
-----END PGP SIGNATURE-----