Having an interest in Criminal Justice I have always wanted to be a good shot no matter what type of arsenal I was holding. So you could imagine my excitement to go trap shooting. A sport that requires perfect aim and how heavy this shot gun was I was hoping just to shoot the round in any direction north. I yelled “PULL!” and pulled the trigger. I underestimated the kickback this gun has. The blast was so powerful for my small frame that I thought my shoulder was broken. Not wanting to show the men present that I was too dainty for the task I swallowed down the pain and casually asked if there was some sort of shoulder pad to help keep the bottom of the gun steady. They bought that reason and strapped one on. Feeling confident I reloaded and was ready for the next shot. “PULL!” I fired again. For some reason the second shot seemed more powerful this time around because after I fired the round I felt my body tip backwards in my wheelchair and I let out a scream. Thank goodness one of the gentlemen near by saw this happening and he leaped in my direction. He caught me just in time before I was going to hit the ground. All the while I remained holding onto the shot gun. He threw me back up from my backrest with such force that I lost control of the shot gun and the nozzle hit the concrete. Apparently that sound made everyone stop in their tracks because that’s a big no, no I learned. “Sorry” I said with an innocent smile hoping that would grant me forgiveness. I prepared for the next shot. “PULL!” I fired again and to the surprise of everyone there including myself I split the clay pigeon. I reloaded the shells again quickly wanting to keep up some momentum. “PULL!” Bang! I made contact again with the clay pigeon. After getting four in a row and then a miss I thought I would quit while I was ahead.