I'm a Hispanic American, but I spent some time in my ethnic country. I was in my pre-teen years so in that country you are considered an adult, at least socially. In the span of about a year and a Half I learned how to use a machete, a gun, a car, how to hotwire, how to pick locks, and other things of that nature, by the time I was 15 I was basically a well known local with ties to a major gang. Spending time with my family (the majority of my cousins were either gangsters or at least have used a gun before) allows me to make friends and enemies based on personality, physique, etc. One particular cousin of mine didn't like me from the beginning, simply because I wore more expensive clothes than most of my family. Once we were at a party, I was 18 at the time so I was fairly integrated, and this guy (P) was doing what he usually does, which is talk shit about people and act as arrogant as possible. He eventually gets a high head and starts trying to pick a fight with me. At first it was ok, no big deal, but then he starts calling me a pussy and throwing stuff. After throwing and hitting me with a beer bottle, I finally had enough and told him to go outside. He follows me out, along with half of the party. That's when I pull out a gun and aim it at him. At first he acts indifferent, but I fired a bullet into the air, making him trip and fall. I aim it again and this dumbass starts crying and begging not to shoot him. He basically pissed himself. I swear, the only reason, THE ONLY REASON, I didn't shoot him was because he was family and his mom and dad don't deserve to go through their only son's death. If they were dead, I definitely would have shot him.