Prompt: A defining moment in a hunter’s life

I raised my rifle in ready for the perfect shot. The deer stood tall with majestic antlers raised high. I’m not sure why I was hesitating. I prepared well for this moment. It was my day to make my father proud. We spent hours shooting at targets that looked like deer heads finding the precise spot for a kill shot. I remember admiring the deer heads my father proudly mounted on the walls in the cabin away from my mothers tender eyes.

My father had finally taken me hunting while my brother laughingly shouted a girl would never be able to shoot a deer. Here I was in my moment of glory, ready to take the shot when I heard a boom followed by a thump on the ground. I looked up and the deer was gone. With fearful eyes, I saw huge man walking toward me. Then he stopped near where I had seen the deer. He reached to the ground and picked up the limp dead animal with his gloved hands and tossed into a giant bag at his feet. He threw the bag over his shoulder and walked away.

I knew I should be thinking about how I lost my chance to impress my father, but all I could see in my mind was the beautiful animal tossed in a bag and carried away. I knew then that I would never impress my father with a kill. I had my chance to be the daughter he wanted me to be, but I couldn’t. Life was more precious than blood spilled for sport. For the first time in my young life I considered becoming a vegetarian only taking life from the soil where I could watch it regenerate to its next iteration of life.