Thursday, March 13, 2014

Bows and Arrows

We've been watching The Walking Dead lately (just finished Season 3). Zay talked me into it. I knew I would love it, but it was too gruesome the first couple times I tried watching it. Now I'm hooked, because the story is so good. I just have to look away when I feel something gross about to come up. I'm pretty good at guessing when I need to look away, but if I catch something and it makes me cringe I get to punch Zay as hard as I can in the arm. So it's a win-win. Lol. It's my guilty pleasure at the moment.

It's making me really want to learn how to shoot a gun. And that's just not me!!! Actually, I'd prefer Daryl Dixon's crossbow. Or just Daryl Dixon. Either way. I totally want him on my side in the zombie apocalypse!



But seriously, it makes me want to get on the ball about food storage and preparing for the worst to happen. I'm totally not prepared. I am a wuss. I want to toughen up a bit and learn to defend myself and learn some emergency preparedness. Because if something bad were to happen right now, I know I wouldn't last long. I'm too soft. I live a really easy life right now. I complain sometimes. I'm emotional sometimes. But I'm not fighting for my life or struggling to survive. I wouldn't have a clue how to survive if I really had to try to!

I'm not worried about zombies (although that would be terrifyingly awesome), but if I were in a zombie apocalypse, the first zombie I saw I'd probably just fall down and lay on my back and start kicking. I wouldn't get very far with that tactic. But I know with about 99% certainty that that's what I'd do. I'm pathetic. Lol.

One of the reasons I'm afraid of weapons in general is that I'm clumsy. And having that much power in my hands feels like too much responsibility. Like I'd hurt someone or myself on accident. We had a friend who shot himself in the eye with a pellet gun. I thought, "What an idiot! Why was he using a gun?" rather than "Why wasn't he using it properly?" I've handled a gun once, I think. My dad had us shooting at targets in his yard when we were kids. With a rifle of some sort, I think. I didn't like it. Made me sick to my stomach. It was just way out of my comfort zone for me. Even though he was guiding us and it was in a controlled environment. I just cringed at holding it for some reason. I'm not a hunter, I'm a semi-vegetarian (in my head I'm a full vegetarian, but in practice chicken is really hard to eliminate, lol). Guns just weren't something I've ever been comfortable with or ever had a use for.

Another reason I'm scarred (figuratively and literally), is because my younger brother shot me in the head with an arrow when we were kids. We just did not have the common sense to be handling sets of bows and arrows like we were. I think they were a Christmas present and I bet my mom just thought we weren't idiots, so we'd be okay out in the yard playing with them (well, she was wrong!). I've thought to myself since then, "Omg... what if we were given pellet guns or something?" That shot to the head might've required a lot more than a measly 4 stitches. Ever since then I've been wary of anything that could hurt another person... or myself. Even pocket knives.

It makes a good story, though. So I'll share. :)

We went out in the front yard and found a good tree to use as target practice. We'd never used a bow and arrow before, so we just fiddled with them until we figured them out. After a few rounds of shooting arrows into the tree and then running to pull them out, we realized how hard (and time-consuming) it was to get those suckers out of the tree, because the arrows were sharp and would go in pretty deep. We wanted to play, not work!

We had this big pile of dirt in the middle of our driveway, so we started aiming for it instead. Side note: our driveway constantly washed away with the rainwater and created these huge gulleys that our car had to bounce through to get down to the house, so the city was nice enough to dump a big pile of dirt in the middle of our driveway so we could spread it out into the holes... but we were lazy and the dirt sat there for months (I'm laughing so hard thinking about this because we continued to bounce down the driveway through all the holes plus then we had to drive around the dirt pile... LOL). Anyway, it was a perfect pile of dirt to play in... or shoot arrows at.

After awhile of shooting into the dirt pile and running to go get the arrows, one of us (can't say who, honestly can't remember) brought up the brilliant idea, "Why don't we just face each other and exchange arrows? We can just shoot at the ground in front of each other's feet." You know, because that way we could shoot all we want and never have to run and get the arrows. Duh.

Not too long after that idea came to fruition, I was bending down to pick up an arrow and I look up just in time to see an arrow headed right towards my head. I remember trying to dive out of the way, but there was only a split second before it hit me, so I can't be positive I even moved at all. It grazed my forehead (knocking me back a little) before continuing past me.

My head felt hot and numb like I had just banged it against something. Blood immediately started pouring down into my right eye. I touched it with my hand and saw how much blood there was and I screamed. I must've screamed pretty loud because my mom came running out of the house and was terrified that I had lost an eye. The look on her face scared the crap outta me! There was a LOT of blood. My brother had run over to me and I'm sure was scared out of his mind trying to figure out if I was okay. I'm sure I was yelling that he didn't shoot at my feet like he was supposed to!

I got cleaned up and to the hospital where I got 4 stitches and was told how lucky (and dumb) I was. Getting numbed for the stitches hurt way worse than the arrow scraping across my skull had, and I was excited to show my stitches off when I got back to school after the Christmas holidays. I thought I looked like Frankenstein. But that was something I never, ever, ever wanted to re-live.  Of course, our new Christmas present was immediately taken away and we never saw them again.

That terrified feeling has stuck with me for SO LONG. I want to get over that now. Thank you, Walking Dead! I'm a changed woman. Lol.





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