An Unlikely Getaway

POV: A young, rebellious mind.

People would think of me as a lunatic, very much like Adolf Hitler, if I ever admit that my relaxing spot, my safe haven is the entrance of a wide, spread-out field of a shooting range. That is because: while most people prefer to take a walk down the street -or go on a vacation to chill out in order to get away with the burdens of life, I, different from the usual beings altogether, like to escape reality by stepping into the firing range of APH Academy.

The wide span of mud-covered ground spreads out in front of me like an endless galaxy. Whenever I go there- mostly at night, the target dummies twinkle like shining stars from the 50m distance. As soon as I enter the arena, cracks of bullets and loud blasts of G3 and AK47 hit me like pop music, as if I’ve just arrived at a club. But they are more than enough to soothe me down and get me back to my senses. All the burden of incomplete assignments, unprepared tests and unplanned future build up inside me, heavy on my shoulders, swelling up like a gas balloon: unbearable. In that moment, I feel the agony of Atlas- the Titan god who bore the weight of seven skies aloft.

All these worries transform into something else as soon as I feel the cold, smooth metal of my beloved ammunition against my skin; the stress turns into frustration, and I let it all out by aiming and firing, aiming and firing at the targets, over the dummies, into the brick wall behind. The smell of gunpowder feels like roses in here. Occasional sparks from the fired bullets reminds me of something: “Happiness can be found in the darkest of times,” as quoted by Albus Dumbledore.

Shooting at the already torn-up targets until I’m worn out gives me a good night’s sleep.

I take all of it lightly, unlike most people- who think of it as mere act of cruelty and are terrified of the idea of holding a gun alone. But honestly, this place helps me meditate more than some grand vacation or gatherings, where I feel rigid, small, and more stressed. At the end of the day, all of us do somewhat resemble Atlas; bearing the weights of our actions and conscience, yet our quality of endurance never fading away.

Originally published at https://dickinsonstypewriter.blogspot.com on May 28, 2022.