The Rifle

The Morning was hot already and it was only 8am. Another scorcher. The quicker I checked the snare traps the quicker I could get home.

I was riding shot gun and he was driving, we pulled up at a snare and the kangaroo was dead.

Now I know some will be mortified to read this, but we lived on a farm. Unfortunately Kangaroos are known as vermin and it was a normal practice to rid your property of such. Today however I take a some what passive attitude, only because I no longer live on a farm, but I still accept that farmers rid their property's of vermin.

I got out of the old yellow range rover and took the rifle with me just to make sure the kangaroo was dead. I nudged the kangaroo with the rifle and confirmed it was dead. I then returned to the range rover and placed the rifle back. I put the butt end in first leaving the muzzle of the rifle facing me. As I put the rifle down, eight shots buzzed past my right ear. The rifle had discharged its self. Missing me by only millimetres.

I was shocked and felt the blood drain from my face as a hit of adrenalin charged through me. He sat their gob smacked, mouth open and eyes wide, just staring at me in disbelief.
"Fuck," he said "That was close,"
I tried to open my mouth to reply but my mouth was so dry I could not speak. I looked at the rifle to check if I had cocked it ready, but no it wasn't cocked. A freak chance of an accidental discharge could have proved fatal for me.

It was the rifle I had always used and like a rabies dog it turned on me. The same rifle I knew better than the back of my own hand. The same rifle that he made me pull apart, clean and reassemble with my eyes closed. The very rifle he used against me in his fits of uncontrollable rage. It had no loyalty. It was, just a weapon.

I have read and researched about accidental discharges and the sad fact is that rifles are not perfect and do have flaws. In most rifles they do not have a drop safety or a firing pin block. It seemed that the rifle fired because of the term known as 'dropped firearm'.

I know I should have gained more respect for such a dangerous unpredictable rifle, but at age fourteen you don't really think about such things.