The operative term there is “used.”
In New Year’s Eve, 1987, at an outdoor street party in our village, my mother was a foot away from being hit by a stray bullet. From that time on, we don’t buy firecrackers anymore.
In 1995, the year I was to take the bar exams, I was a New Year’s injury statistic.
Right after the revelry and after eating, I just went out to retrieve something outside. Then I felt a very fast object hit me in the head. After a second, I was still alive so it was definitely not a stray bullet (because I was still alive).
But after another second, my eyeglasses curtained blood red. And I was bleeding profusely.
So I was rushed to the hospital. Some photographer wanted to take my picture as a “casualty of the New Year.” But I declined.
Gave me a tetanus shot but I didn’t need stitches.
Turns out a firecracker exploded nearby cause a small rock to hurl towards my head at great speed. Hey, at least it was not a bullet.
Now, I never go out this time of the year.
So folks be careful out there. Happy New Year!