Prologue ♥
“What matters is the reason why you pull the trigger.” I explained
“Your kindness is a weakness; your weakness will delay the trigger by a moment. This world doesn’t treat kindness kindly. 189 countries pledged to fulfill the UN’s Millennium Development Goals by 2015.
Achieving universal primary education and reducing child mortality, 22 billion dollars are necessary for that every year, but when we look at reality, the money spent on weapons in war zones has exceeded that sum in recent.
Honestly, I hate that fact. People care more about wars than the future of their children.”
“Aren’t you an arms dealer?” he asked.
“So I should be happy that my goods are selling well?” I continued, throwing him back the question.
“I guess. But you know, I voice my own criticisms the way I want to.” I said not giving him time to answer to my recent question.
“The veracity of what I say and whether or not you need that information is something you have to decide for yourself as you listen to me, Vlad.”
“now, my turn asking the questions, who has the most guns?”
He looked puzzled for a moment but answered without hesitation
“the military.” He said looking into my eyes as if he was very sure of his answer. I looked up in the sky and smiled.
“wrong,--“ then he cut me off by staring at me as if I’ve grown two heads.
“about 60% of all guns worldwide are in civilian hands. Count ten people and one of them is armed 37% are the army’s and the rest belong to the police. Rebel militias well, only holds less than 0.1%”
I explained thoroughly, the stare broke down into awe.
“even peaceful people, given a gun, can go crazy.” He said laughing
“where are those peaceful people exactly?” I asked in a cold voice. I knew they don’t exist in a world full of hate and war no one would ever exist peacefully.
“in this world guns are always within reach, and sadly guns are more trustworthy than kindness.”
“a lot of experience speaking there.” He said laughing. And I laughed along too.
Why You Pull The Trigger: prologue ♥
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Why You Pull The Trigger
Short StoryThe sounds in my head, creating beautiful melody. Every song that plays gets scratched and play painful screeches. These scars just won't heal. Bullets pierced at the very center of my heart. Every time I try to forget, these memories just keep comi...
