by J.S. (4th Grade)

When I was 8, I got a BB gun. I thought it was so cool. It was made from wood and metal. The metal was copper. The bullets were as small as hummingbird eggs. When I picked it up, I thought it was heavy as a chicken. My grandparents gave me the BB gun for Christmas. We went outside to our grandparents yard. My grandpa decided we would shoot cans. We stood 10 feet away from the cans. Every time I shot the gun, I smelled burning oil. Every time I pulled the trigger, the metal was cold against my finger. The gun made a big bang. At first, I could not aim, but everyone said that it takes practice. After a couple of hours, I felt bad, since I could not shoot the can. The whole time, I was trying and trying. After awhile, I finally shot a can! I felt pretty good—like a dog that had just killed a cat. Everyone said, “Good job!”