I went to bed on Wednesday night:
- having done no studying of my color whatsoever
- not having read The Hunger Games like Matt told me to
- with generally a feeling of foreboding
I did my physics homework and went to bed. Yup. Woke up early to get ready, put on my brown shirt, and dragged my feet out the door. This was too early in the morning to get up. I don't wanna do this. I'm gonna die. I haven't studied. I just wanted to get it over with. I wanted ice cream. Oh yeah I forgot to eat breakfast. Oh well. I'll live. Not. Since the point of this game was to kill and get killed, after all.
Then I got there and stood in the windy parking lot and readied myself for the blood and tears that would follow within the half hour. Put my candy bucket on, surveyed the weapons, the enemies, the friends.
Then we started at it was all chaos, chaos. I was paranoid as heck and hungry (I remember asking to eat a marshmallow and Tim said no :c), so I just ran around without aim and idled around when I could. I watched people die, answered questions, saw people answer questions...
It was actually quite exhilarating, running away from food items being flung at us. I felt a guilt, though--all the others on my team voted clean, and I voted messy. But they all in some way were pelted by said food items, while I escaped squeaky clean. Oops.
And the anxiety I felt when we were asked a question and what happened? Tim, JV, and Matt all look at me. The pressure was suffocating! Look at the one who hadn't read the book or studied the night before. At least we got one question right with out the book though. Yeah...
To be honest, I was pretty proud of our team. An hour or whatever in and all but our team had lost at least 2 members. We retained all of our members, until both JV and I were slain at the same time, woe is me, woe.
My dead body was dragged off of the playing field (by fellow zombies Susan and Janelle), and then I went and retrieved my history book, only to return to the gruesome sight of Matt being murdered by none other than my good friend Mariah. The horror!
At this point, Tim had all of our previous ammo so he was like stockpiled. We were so proud. We had this.
Until Queen Frostine arrived on the scene, and the remaining humans were restricted to only stepping on squares of their team color. Tim was shot right in the side by a round of miracle whip. :( Whether or not it was fair or not, we may never know. Too many things were seen, heard, and said.
In that same round that Tim died, the game ended.
We had made it far.
But not far enough.
We trudged our way (a bit bitterly) to the ice cream table and received our reward for our valiant actions, dreading that we had to take the history final after all.
Boo.
Hiss.
I will not lie, I believe the circumstances of the game made everybody a bit bitter at the end. Glares were given, tempers flared, and arguments were had.
~*~*~*~*
Gosh typing like that is so hard man how do people do it.
Also the ice cream that day made me feel sorta sick idk why maybe my stomach just didn't want to cooperate.
So yeah. Time to go look at that history final that's been rotting in my backpack for a couple days....
