A couple of things made that day stand out more than any other: It was the day when my sister (Shayne) and I visited our dad and our families on his side in Sapian, Visayas, Philippines.
“Phachuw!..Ratatatat.”
The gun had made an old grinding noise when my dad pushed down the safety lever, ready to fire up the trigger again…
I was seven years old then. My mum and dad were already divorced. My dad and grandpa were heavily drunk. And I mean it when I say that. My dad and my grandpa couldn’t even think or see properly, let alone walk or even shoot a pistol. I heard harsh, purposelful words in a serious shouted manner. It was my dad, shouting at my grandpa, yelling at him for the things that he hadn’t done to my dad at his childhood time. …show more content…
Instead of going to bed and taking a sleep, my dad secretively took his .22 pistol, took some new, small, shiny silver-coloured from the old rustic tray and cautiously pushed the bullets in the magazine, the trigger ready to be fired. He aimed it casually to my grandpa, and at that moment, I thought that everything around me was slowing down. Adrenaline rushed through me body, and I felt as if someone was going to die tonight. He almost pushed the shiny, newly polished trigger with his sweaty index finger at my grandpa when I saw his face change. And not just the emotion of his face, but also the colour of his face had
“Phachuw!..Ratatatat.”
The gun had made an old grinding noise when my dad pushed down the safety lever, ready to fire up the trigger again…
I was seven years old then. My mum and dad were already divorced. My dad and grandpa were heavily drunk. And I mean it when I say that. My dad and my grandpa couldn’t even think or see properly, let alone walk or even shoot a pistol. I heard harsh, purposelful words in a serious shouted manner. It was my dad, shouting at my grandpa, yelling at him for the things that he hadn’t done to my dad at his childhood time. …show more content…
Instead of going to bed and taking a sleep, my dad secretively took his .22 pistol, took some new, small, shiny silver-coloured from the old rustic tray and cautiously pushed the bullets in the magazine, the trigger ready to be fired. He aimed it casually to my grandpa, and at that moment, I thought that everything around me was slowing down. Adrenaline rushed through me body, and I felt as if someone was going to die tonight. He almost pushed the shiny, newly polished trigger with his sweaty index finger at my grandpa when I saw his face change. And not just the emotion of his face, but also the colour of his face had