Parallel Delusions

Chapter 9

With a little bit of help, I made it. The target was ready to be shot. I didn't really like classes so what else could I do? I just...made a target myself. Of course I bought a pack of targets because I really couldn't make one, but with a little bit of help, I tied one end of a long rope to my bed, and when the target was hanged from the rope, I tied the other end to one of the branches of our one and only tree.

Fortunately, about the noise, I wasn't worried. Because our house was away from the neighborhood, and fortunately again, too many people in the neighborhood had guns. No we weren't alone, there were other houses around but I was sure they didn't mind. So we were good.

It was time to finally begin. My mom came out of the kitchen and had a little case with her. Her gun was in there.

But I knew one thing, and that was that she didn't trust me. I knew she didn't. It's not like I did. But I was sure of that when I saw the hesitation in her movements. How she walked so slowly, how her hands weren't hanging loose. How her eyes were scanning everything. It was driving me insane, but I remained silent. Cause I wasn't stupid....right?

She put the case on the little table and took a glance at me. Then gazed at the case. It was like a really sensitive moment for her. Were I trustworthy enough to be given something like that?

She distanced her hands from the case. But I couldn't let her give up on me. So I put my hand on her wrist. When she turned to look at me, I smiled, like one of those smiles I used to wear on my lips when I was younger.

The look on her face gave me a massive heartache. She missed the old me. And she knew she could never have him back. I was no longer the son she knew. But it wasn't my fault. It was even more difficult for me myself. It's always difficult to know your old self is lost. That person is who helps you through tough times. And losing them, meant losing your mind.

She smiled back and handed me the case. "It's 206."

What a poor choice of numbers. If I were to set a code for the case, I'd choose 137 or 313. Because, numbers have colors. And they give out feelings. Three, seven and thirteen were the numbers that felt toxic to me. That was why I liked them.

I opened the case and gazed at the gun in awe. It was gorgeous. I picked it up and tried holding it the way I had learned from internet. I felt powerful. And that, felt good.

"This is amazing mom." I said while I was analyzing the gun.

She smiled. "Go and try shooting a little bit."

"Is it full?" I asked.

"Completely." She answered in satisfaction.

I smiled and stood up, walking towards the backyard.

"Be careful not to shoot anyone." She said and winked.

I smiled and walked out of the house. As I reached the backyard, I stood in the right place, in the right position I had researched and learned about. I looked at the target carefully and did what I had learned. Focused on my target, I was thinking of the feeling. The first pulled trigger and the first shot bullet. It was quite beautiful to me. And I knew it was what I wanted to do for a long time.

I put my index finger on the trigger. My whole body was suddenly tired of the gesture I had been standing in. I closed my eyes, took a deep breathe and opened them again. And finally,
I pulled the trigger.

The deafening noise of the gun echoed through my head as I was pushed back a little. The bullet shot the target's corner. I was pretty satisfied though. At least it had hit the target.

I tried again. Standing in the right position, I pulled the trigger for the second time. It didn't hit the target. That was okay. I hadn't focused on that one well enough. So I tried again.