A story from 20th Century

The year is, I think, 1998 or 1999, baby me is playing on a wooden planked bed. The next moment I hear a loud sound. I look at the bare brick wall in front of me as the white smoke clears and there is a black spot on the wall. Beside the black spot stands my mother, shell shocked!

I later asked my mother about it (well, about ~20 years later) and she was suprised I remembered it and we counted our good stars because anything could've happened that day. Yup, it was a gunshot. I'm glad it only gave me one of the earliest slightly traumatic childhood memory and a slightly cool anecdote.

All is well, that ends well, I guess :)