As I went through my initiation I remember thinking how fortunate I was to be a bullet. Unlike rocks or pencils, my mission was to take out the bad guys and make the world a safer place for all the innocent people. If I was lucky I might end up taking down a serial killer or a mass murderer and become a hero.

I felt a tremor and realized that my fellow bullets and I were on the move. The bullet next to me in the box whispered, “I think someone just bought us. I think we are leaving the store. I think we are on the path to our destiny.”

We all shivered when we heard those words. We were on our way to right a wrong and to make the world safer.

I felt myself being put into the gun and could barely contain my excitment knowing that soon I would be released and be able to provide justice.

There was an explosion and I both saw and felt the man lift up the child and scream as blood came poring out of her. She was only 3 years old. What had I done? This wasn’t what I had been made for.