I feel the sudden shift of my shash.
A cold damp hand grabs me out of my holder,
suddenly i’m shoved into a dark crevice.
I hear a click, then another.
A sudden shuffle and a muffled yell of a man.
I hear the release then a hot bright spark blew behind me,
a pin shoves me into a long narrow tube with a bright end a sudden smell of gunpowder and sulfur hits me.
I can hear the whistle as i entered the world.
Knowing i was destined for this.
I see my target, a young boy.
In an instant I can hear the ripping of his flesh,
the shattering of his brittle bones.
I hear him cry out for his mother.
The final inhale of breath he takes.
The thud as his delicate innocent body crashed to the ground.
I could feel the warmth of his blood and the instant chill of the world once again.
I ricocheted into a large oak tree’s trunk.
I will forever hold the memory of that young boy,
he never deserved a gruesome death who cried for a mom who would await the news of his death.
Years go by, and the image stays.
A sudden shift of the bark a small tug on my rusted body.
A young boy prys me from the bark of the oak tree.
I never thought I could feel joy again,
but my secret will never leave the iners of my rusted cold shell.