Uncover → Transformers

Incomplete

*I don't own Transformers or anything affiliated with Transformers. I only own my original characters and plots. All rights go to Michael Bay and Steven Spielberg.*

Shooting...it was my favorite thing to do and it was practically my escape from reality; right now I was in desperate need of that escape. The Beretta M9 I had chosen was grasped firmly in my hand. I took a couple of steps back before focusing it on the target that was standing a mere fifteen feet in front of me. A small wind blew past sending a shiver down my spine, but I quickly recovered and focused my aim back on the target. I shot five rounds, each of them hitting the main mark. I mentally praised myself and unloaded the gun before picking up my SIG-Sauer P228. I loaded the gun and took it off of safety.

The target was nearly destroyed, so I would soon have to replace it. But instead of worrying about that issue at the moment, I raised my gun and concentrated solely on the target. Normally I could hit the target without any problem at all, but I was so stressed out at the moment that it was almost impossible to stay concentrated. It didn't stop me from firing though. 

Seven shots from the P228 basically ended the target's life. I laid the handgun down and sighed, removing my goggles and my ear pieces as I did so. I then walked over to unpin the piece of plastic core flute from its canvas. Underneath the stand held a box containing multiple shooting targets. I grabbed one of them and pinned it to the canvas before heading back over to my post. As I was about to put my gear back on, a small voice called my name. I looked over to see my mom, Sarah, standing at the bottom of the hill staring up at me. I placed everything back down and called out to her.

"What, mom?"

"You need to come inside. Dinner's ready," she explained and then walked back into the house.

I groaned and grabbed all of my gear. After making sure the guns were unloaded and on safety, I placed everything inside my equipment bag and carefully walked down the hill.

In my backyard was the gun shed that my dad and my Uncle Epps had set up when I was only eleven.

From then on, I had been absolutely in love with shooting. I had grown up watching my dad and Uncle Epps shoot up on the hill and I just thought it looked fun. Finally, at age thirteen my dad began teaching me everything there was to know about guns and such. He had also taught me basic military fighting and some martial arts techniques. I thought it was kind of crazy what I could do, but it came in handy when I needed it and no one ever thought to mess with me so that was a good thing. He would even come out to shoot with me and fight with me when he had the free time.

I sighed as I thought of my father. He and I were incredibly close. We did everything together. We had absolutely the best, yet the weirdest father-daughter relationship. He's basically my best friend, and our relationship never once faltered after he left for war...that is until two days ago.

Right now, he was stationed overseas and honestly I had no clue as to whether he was alive or not. Just two days ago we were informed of a peculiar attack on their base in Qatar and were told that there were no confirmed survivors. It's been stressing me out since then, so to get my mind off of it I've been up at the range for countless hours at a time. All I wanted was to know that he was okay and that he would come home safely. Just the mere thought of something bad happening to him made me feel so incomplete and I hated it.

As I approached the inside of the shed, I took my bag off of my shoulder and laid it down on the floor. I knelt down and unzipped the bag before removing the three weapons I had brought outside. I placed them all neatly and properly on their designated posts and proceeded to put the rest of my gear away. I removed my goggles and my ear pieces and placed them on the shelf in the opposite corner of the small building. After doing so, I headed back outside and into the house.