Armed (story by Ainsley Arin)

In 2024 the National Rifle Association stopped supporting Republican Party candidates and began to run their own. On March 17,  2032, The Mandatory Ownership of Firearms Bill was passed with little resistance.  Since then every person over the age of sixteen has been legally obligated to own a gun.  There are relentless police stop and search programs on the streets.  Anyone not in possession of a concealed weapon is subject to a fine.  Repeat offenders can expect a long custodial sentence.

Like every other American child, I began basic weapons training in junior high at the age of twelve. In high school, I received training in assault rifles. I am not good at shooting a gun. My performance was so poor, my classmates teased me. My parents took me to an eye doctor who confirmed an eye impairment and astigmatism in both eyes.

“We can’t operate yet,” said the doctor. “She’s too young.”

“Can she get an exemption from the law?” asked my protective mother.

“Not a chance. She will still have to carry a gun.”

“But she can’t shoot a gun. Not properly,” insisted my mother.

“Doesn’t matter. The law is the law.”

The targets never lined up for me. My eye condition moved everything out of alignment. Even with contacts, my eyesight at a distance was poor. I carried the gun but knew I would not use it.

In the spring, two rival gangs started shooting on campus. I retreated to the library. Most other students were firing at the gangs. I backed up into the stacks when I heard the librarian speaking in a frightened voice. Across the way, I saw the librarian and a gang member. They were pointing guns at each other. At least, I think they were. My eyesight for distance was fuzzy. The librarian yelled at me to shoot the boy.

“He has a loaded gun. Shoot.” Her voice was strong. The fear was ebbing away. She was in attack mode. She wanted me to shoot. I couldn’t see where the gang member had the gun pointed. It could have been on me. I pulled out my gun and aimed but the librarian and gang member blurred together. I realized instantly, that I had a 50/50 shot of accidentally shooting the librarian.

I lowered my weapon. “I can’t shoot,” I said. A bullet then whizzed by my ear. I heard another gunshot. The second gunshot went through my arm. The librarian stood over me.

“You idiot, I told you to shoot him.” She kicked my injured arm.

At the hospital, I was charged with not firing my weapon. I spent the remaining years of high school in prison. Given the charge, I was not allowed to attend college. My defense was that I might have injured or killed the librarian if I shot. I was protecting her life. Ballistics evidence about my injured arm was suppressed. I knew it was because the librarian shot me because she was angry.

As a convict, I am still required to carry a gun. I cannot get my eyesight fixed because the state has denied me benefits because I am a convict. I no longer leave my mother’s home and I pray, to a God I really don’t believe in, that no one breaks into our home and places me in a situation of having to defend my mother. One more charge and I face the death penalty.