gila_dog1
Member
When I was a young man (long ago) I kept my shotgun in a rack on the wall above my bed. It seemed like a good place to keep it in case I needed it real quick. One night I'm sleeping soundly, but I start to come awake when I see somebody standing by my bed looking at me. I wasn't all the way awake, just about halfway. Sure enough there's a man standing there. Some kind of survival instinct kicked in and I grab him by the wrist and pull him across the bed and shove him down into the gap between the bed and the wall and punch him in the face twice, then I'm up on my knees grabbing the shotgun. I jack a round into it, and then I hear the man yelling "Don't! Don't! It's me!" I yell, "Me who?", and he answers "Rick! It's me, Rick!". It was my stupid ass cousin, drunk again, and he had come into my house and was standing there by my bed for some reason. Maybe he thot he was in his own house and why is there somebody in his bed? By now I'm all the way awake, heart pounding. I just collapse, trembling, breathing hard, and lay the shotgun down. From then on I've kept it in the closet so I have to wake all the way up and get out of bed to get to it. I just don't trust myself to do the right thing when I'm half asleep. And I make sure the house is locked up before going to bed. That's my story, yours may be different.
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