I never wanted to be a
murderous weapon. I never asked for deadly devices to be woven into my system.
What a cruel world indeed, but this is how I became a tool for evil…
It was dark and I had
become accustomed to the darkness by now. I could feel the up and down motions
my owner makes when he travels. Ahhh… What I would give to have legs. My owner
was walking somewhere in a hurry, then I felt an upward motion even though I
know he was standing still. There were screams as he withdrew me from his
pocket. No one is ever happy to see me. More screaming commenced. Then I was
fired four times. Those last fatal cries still echo inside. I clearly remember
all the blood. I’ve never had the stomach for the stuff. Then my owner turned
me to face him. I saw tears falling from his eyes as he shuddered and cried. He
said a small prayer before he pulled my trigger.
Now I lay on the floor
of the elevator, abandoned and alone until someone comes along to find me. What
a lonely life I lead, a life of death and despondency.
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