The act of killing someone makes you feel incredibly powerful. You decide if someone deserves to keep breathing or has to stop for eternity. You are the only one who gets to decide. You hold your dear silver gun in your right hand, you have your index finger on the trigger but you yet don't get to push. You keep it there, waiting for the impulse of your brain to let it move and push it. You have your eyes on the one your aiming. You are the only one who gets to decide.