Personal Narrative: My Gun

I hoped the gun would actually fire this time, my whole family was counting on me for food. This wasn’t anything new though. Ever since my father became sick about a year ago, and the stock market crashed, it was my job to feed the family. I took a deep breath as I looked down the barrel of my grandpa’s old hunting rifle. As the buck was in my line of fire, I pulled the trigger. Click. The deer ran off into the woods, breaking sticks and dodging trees. He was a goner. I let out a painful sigh as I looked into the sky. The Sun had just started to set, I would barely be home by nightfall. I started the long hike back to town, checking my rabbit traps along the way. At least I was a good trapper, or my family would have starved to death months …show more content…
Then I saw him. Out of the corner of my eye was the largest buck I had ever seen. I turned around and crouched low to the ground. I didn’t want to startle the big guy, and a deer like this one could feed my family for months. I knocked my arrow, and took aim. I could feel my heart pounding through my chest, and let go.
The arrow landed directly where the heart of the beast would have been, but to my dismay, he ran off into the dense brush. I slowly started to follow the red blood trail left behind. About ten feet into the brush, I saw him lying on the ground. I ran over to him and pulled out my knife. I didn’t want him to suffer any more than he had to. After pondering what this would mean for my family and I, I started to haul the giant back to town. I took a lot longer than expected, but eventually my ears picked up the low chatter of the townspeople.
I made my way through town and to my house, and as always, Bobby and Jane ran down the rough gravel road to meet me. Their jaws dropped to the ground, and they stopped in their tracks when they saw the buck I was dragging. I laughed and asked them “Ya’ll hungry for some