There were thick bushes where we could hide and where the deer wouldn't be able to see us. It was the first time I understood that we would really take a life and a shiver ran down my spine. My father started to explain to me something about the tracks, about the smell of the cover to hide our smell, but it was becoming more and more difficult for me to listen. Disappointing my father after all the trouble he had been through was my biggest fear, so I tried to hide my nervousness. Time passed and we sat in silence, watching the stream. After an hour I was cold, I was hungry, but I remained silent. Suddenly I heard a quiet noise. When I turned my head, I saw a deer slowly approaching the stream. I didn't know if my father had noticed too. I was fascinated. The deer was beautiful, all caramel colored, strong and peaceful. He proceeded carefully through the undergrowth, as if he didn't want to hurt the plants. I saw the exact moment he relaxed and started drinking from the stream, so gracefully and calmly. “We have to wait for the shot,” my father whispered. He started counting and I felt the adrenaline rush through my veins, making me tremble. At first I thought it was excitement, but when I looked at the deer again, I realized that the feeling raging inside me was terror. I didn't want the deer to do it