Growing up in the south, my father taught me how to handle a gun when I was still very young.
Maybe it was instinct, maybe some kind of 6th sense, but I could see where a bullet would eventually strike by the means of a thin red line extending from the barrel of the gun.
Almost like a laser-sight, only it even calculated for things like wind speed and distance, with a slight arc. And it worked on any gun, not just one I was holding.
My father loved to take me hunting with his friends. Told them he only taught me how to shoot targets, and not how to miss - praise for my unerring accuracy.
Though I didn't like killing innocent animals, the extreme praise I got from my father and his cohorts was more than enough to make up for it.
Eventually, they would encourage me to join the armed forces, and not wanting to waste my talents, I would.
I was only deployed to a combat zone once, and the lines were everywhere.
Physically, or maybe psychically, I knew more of what was happening than the other men around me, yet somehow, that made me even more afraid.
I could see all the guns trained on us, not just the ones currently firing. It was... a nightmare.
Not long after that, I was sent to Washington, DC to receive some medals. It's a lot easier to save lives when you can see the bullets coming.
It's been about 2 weeks now, and everything is fine. Except for this giant, red rainbow in the sky that appeared a few hours ago.