I Gave You Power!

Oh men … why can’t fellas just let me be? Look at the way the scramble about just to get a-hold of me: pick me up after trading in some cash, then use me however way they want before dumping me just when I’m starting to grow hot, I just can’t understand none of this.

It’s like I’m a gun. That’s all I am, a stupid cold-hearted gun.

There I was on that day, lying between some stinking underwear clothes in the depths of a cabinet drawer, trying to catch me some early evening snooze, when suddenly a light came on and I felt my owner delve his hands between the clothes and pulled me out. The fool checked my clip underneath, wanting to make sure I was fully loaded and ready, then said: “Okay homeboy, let’s go do this.”

He tucked me into the waistband of his jeans and together we bounced out of his crib. He had a ride waiting on the alley round the back; he had several other fools from his goon squad waiting for him. After a brief exchange of handshake and cat-names, he jumped into the back and that was when the car came to life and we all headed out into town.

There was Rap music floating out of the stereo; someone lit up a reefer and passed it about as we made it along the city traffic. At least for now, until whenever the action started, I had some brooding time to myself.

It was time such as this that I absolutely hated myself, hated what I was and everything that comes with my lifestyle. Why can’t I somehow be an instrument of Life, I wonder. So much I wish I could find myself in the hands of working doctors and surgeons, instead of keeping company with ridiculous fools such as these ones.

It wasn’t long before we arrived at our destination at some dark looking building close to the bridge. The boys brought their heads together and quietly whispered among themselves, wanting to know who’s going to be the one to go up there and do what needs to be done. My owner raised his hand, saying: “It’s been a while since I pulled my heat. Let me be the one to cap that fool!”

The others agreed and told him it’s on. He jumped out of the car, took me out of his waist, cocked me up and together, as quiet as two mice we made our way into the building while the others waited. Unknown to my owner, I too have long been waiting for a moment such as this, and for a long time now I’ve searching for just the right opportunity to spring my surprise on him.

Soon we got to the door where his enemy was waiting, not knowing he, or rather we, was coming. He tensed for a moment before kicking in the door, aiming me at the guy that was inside.

“I’ve got you now, SUCKER!” he yelled, just before pulling my trigger.

And that was when I sprung my surprise at him.

All he heard was a click and nothing. You ought to have seen the shocked look that was on his face when he pulled my trigger three more times before it registered in his mind that it was actually jammed.

It was enough time for his enemy to pull out his own weapon and aim it at him; unfortunately for my owner, his didn’t jam.

I heard the shot explode from the other dude’s barrel and heard my owner scream out before dropping dead on the floor, bringing me down with him. He was finally dead. I felt I would miss him but I didn’t. All the times I’d saved his life, he’d been one thankless bastard – at least I gave him power while he was alive.

And there I lay for a while, feeling happy about everything. I was now free with my life. But that was until the cops arrived and I felt someone else pick me up

Damn!