I enjoyed playing video games on Xbox Live. I paid 7 dollars a month for the experience of engaging people in cyber battle from all parts of the world. I usually only played a popular first person shooter when I was online. I was good at it. I wasn’t the best in the world, but I wasn’t terrible. I could hold my own against anyone.
One night in early December 2010 at around 1 a.m. I was playing my favorite game. In five matches I won every single match. I was in a zone. I was untouchable. As the next game began to load I looked down at the screen to see who was still playing, one person left our group and another person joined it. I forget his tag name but I remember his voice. As the game began to load a little kid began singing. He wasn’t singing a song I had ever heard, he was just blabbering. I could tell he was young; he sounded eight to twelve years old. His voice was adorable and I was going to have fun showing him how the big boys played this game.
The game started off great. I was leading and no one was really challenging me. A few people were bantering back and forth on their Xbox Live headsets. It was the typical yelling of obscenities to each other followed by your mom jokes. The little kid was not doing well. He was in last place. I had placed some bombs in a door way, the little kid did not see them and got blown up. I placed another bomb in the door way, he ran though it and got blown up again. I started laughing. I did it one last time,
Then it happened. The kid turned whatever rage he had at the world on me. He began stalking me in this game. Everywhere I turned he was there. He killed me five times in forty five second. When I died and re-spawned he was there. When I tried to hide, he found me, when I ran from him he shot me. He was a madman. His cyber blood lust for me was unquenchable. I’m not joking; I couldn’t even play the game for ten seconds without him killing me. I remember when I was playing thinking to myself “what is wrong with this kid?” I remember how he chased me with a knife down a hall and I panicked. My palms became sweaty. He somehow knew what I was going to do before I even did it. I feel bad for deer now, because I know what it is like to be hunted. The game ended, me and the kid finished last and second to last. I sighed. I’m glad that’s over. It wasn’t.
For the next four games this kid slaughtered me. He did not even try to play anyone but me. I tried my best, I did everything I could, but he dominated me. What was worse than being beaten by a 9 year old? I will tell you what is worse than that, his incessant laughing and mocking me. Every time he killed me all you could hear was his little kid laugh. He wasn’t chuckling he was busting a gut. I can tell when someone is laughing a little bit, but this kid was having the time of his life. It was like he just got a pony for his birthday. He was laughing like someone had tripped a kid he didn’t like on the bus. All I could do is shake my head in disbelief. All the others players loved this kid; I have to say he was hilarious but at the time it was unpleasant.
You can call it pride or self-respect but I refused to quit the game. If a 9 year old was better than me fine. I kept thinking to myself “this kid should be in bed, why is he up it is 1 a.m.? Who cares if he is killing me so what I have a job, I have a beautiful girlfriend, this kid is 9 he wets his bed, he knows nothing”, yet somehow I STILL CARED! I kept playing, and he kept killing me.
The sixth game rolled around. He stopped abusing me. Then we became teammates and began to gang up on some other players. As a team we were amazing. With about forty seconds of the game remaining I planted a re-spawn flag so if I died I would be in the re-spawned in the same place. I turned around, the kid was standing there, he shot me, waited till I re-spawned then shot me again. He won the game 24 to 23. I threw the controller down. He was laughing and in maniacal way, if a 9 year old can be maniacal.
I quit the game after that. I wasn’t mad, I was embarrassed. Before I went to bed I sent the kid a message on Xbox Live it said “You’re amazing at this game!” The next morning I woke up and saw his response he said “I’m 9, you’re awful at this game and I know.” If swagger could be measured in gold bricks, this kid was Fort Knox. American’s future is good hands my friends.