I was 9 years old and was at a friends house, we were in his moms room when she was rearranging her room and lifted her mattress to move it to the hall, when I spotted her .32 laying on the boxsprings. I had never handled a handgun at the time and mistook it for a toy, partly because it was a old revolver with the wood grips missing, just the frame threw me off. I picked it up to look at it, pointing across my belly sideways to the left, I pulled the trigger. It went boom, his mom comes in screaming grabs the pistol out of my hands, that's when I seen him, my friend was across the room laying face down in a pool of blood. His mom still screaming runs over to him, lifts his head to see blood squirting out of his cheek just below his right eye. She really starts freaking, I start screaming, at this point I just imagining she's gonna shoot me, I run, ran out the door heading to my house. I could barely get the words out to tell my mom, she called for a ambulance then went to help, I being a kid could just imagine the mom coming to kill me, I hid in my bedroom closet for hours, it took our pastor , my mom dad, and my big brother to talk me out. The boy lived, bullet entered just under his right eye, spiraling through his nasal cavity resting in a bundle of nerves in his neck, Dr's couldn't remove it in fear of damaging nerves, so its still there to this day. Though just 9 at the time, it was the worst day of my life. Needless to say when I was over the shock and sadness of it all, my dad apologized for waiting to teach me about firearms ( he planned on waiting till I was 10, about 3 months to long) I vowed to learn all about guns and safety soon after.