Jinny took the gun silently and clutched it tight. She took it to her shoulder and made sure it was securely set. She had been taught to shoot, but only little red plastic targets. This was something else entirely.

Her lips moved as she calculated and the rabbit drank.

[i]Exhale. Steady. Squeeze, don’t pull, the trigger. And [/i]- 

The little bullet flew out faster than she could track. Birds and creatures scattered from the water. But not the rabbit. It lay there in an ever expanding pool of it’s own blood, twitching very slightly as the life drained out of it.

Jinny pulled back the rifle and stared at the animal. Splashing through the little creek, she approached it and crouched down. She gave it a little tentative poke just to be sure. It was definitely, absolutely dead.

“…”

Jinny kept staring, half aware of the blood getting on the tips of her shoes. The area around the stream had gone quiet, as all the wildlife had promptly left.

Slowly, she looked up at her uncle.

She felt…

She felt…

Absolutely [b]nothing[/b].

Frowning, she looked back at the rabbit. “It’s dead. I did that. But… is something supposed to happen? Like… here?” She pointed at her chest. “I killed it but I don’t really feel anything. Not sad. But not happy either. It’s like potato chips. You kind of eat them and for a second they’re there but then they aren’t, and then… well, you’re still hungry afterward.”

Her frown deepened.

“Uncle, am I broken?”