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Time was running out. I could tell by the ragged breaths of my fellow snipers. How weak and inexperienced they were. They thought that they could enter such a battle zone with only a few dismal shots to their name, whereas I have practiced day and night for this one chance at fully proving myself. The thought of seeing my name on that fluorescent screen, being the top scorer, pushed me through the darkness. But I knew I my mission was not complete unless I found my final victim. My heart shook with every step I took towards the beeping flashes of my next victim. I could see the white stripes on his shirt light up, and I knew I had finally found him. I chased him down the ramp, and near the end of it, he tripped on himself and rolled into the wall, laying spread eagle, face up. I could see fear in his eyes, not reflecting the satisfaction in mine. I leveled the gun with my eye. And made my decision.
“Lily, if we don’t leave now, we’re gonna miss your little brother’s party!” my mother screamed up the stairs.
“I’m coming, one second,” I mumbled, busy with straightening my last section of hair. It was such a pain, but hey, if there’s a hot guy around, it is so worth it.
Why was I running so late? Earlier that evening, I came home from school and was forced to make tortilla roll ups, bake two dozen sets of cupcakes, freeze a million ice cubes, and put together 20 club sandwiches. For whom, someone might inquire. For my little brother’s smart alec midget friends. It’s not like I’m a terribly impatient person. For real, I’m not. It’s just that certain situations, certain people, can really grind your gears.
The guests started to arrive at promptly 6:30 that evening. I could already foresee disaster. The amount of dirt that 8 little squirts can track in is unbelievable. What is even more unbelievable is how long it takes to scrub off every little footprint of dirt. Thank God for inventing Orange Clean. Anyways, the first thing we did was put all the minions in the family room, where they could loiter, lounge and explore to their hearts content. Meanwhile, my mother and I slaved away in the kitchen, looking for ways to satisfy the hunger of our guests.
Everything was going great until a stout like creature entered our domain. He looked like an oompa loompa. Besides the fact that he wasn’t green and broke out in song every two minutes, his whiny toddler like presence and voice was enough to make even hyenas stop laughing.
“Lily, what are you doing?” asked Timmy (the terror).
“Just putting together some food for the kids, Timmy,” I responded “Why don’t you go play with the other kids on the Wii.”
“But the other kids are so boring and don’t like me. Hey, you’re pretty,” He mused.
“Ok, enough is enough. Please get out of my sight before I roll your face in cheese,” I seethe through my teeth.
Luckily, my mother and father decided to leave for the venue early on in hopes of beating the traffic and getting some sugar out of the boys’ systems. Throughout the whole car ride, all I could here were the inquiries from that one boy.
“OMG did you guys here that guy farted on the bus, hahahahaha” or “Bugs, I hate bugs, they drive me crazy, crazy, I was crazy once, they locked me up and threw away the key, that bugs me, bugs…” over and over until my head was spinning.
We finally arrived to the party place and sat down to eat some pizza and snacks. I felt so proud of making such scrumptious looking food, that I even took a picture of it. The moment I turned next to me to pour a drink for myself, I heard a loud clunk followed by a slimy sensation flooding down my thigh. The next few seconds went by like slow mo in a Chevy Chase movie.
“NOOOOO!” I gawked as I saw my ranch dip spread over my lap, accompanied with a shower of potato chips. My eyes moved from the pile of crap on my jeans to the face of the culprit.
“You!” I manage to muster as I shake my finger towards that kid. Ugh! It took all I had in me in order to stop myself from doing something I would regret. I stormed out to the bathroom, and tried my best to get the smelly dip stain off my brand new jeans. I wondered how badly his mother loved him, and if it would bother her if he didn’t come home. I quickly scrapped that idea, thinking maybe he had some distant relative that still cared for him.
I left the bathroom, only to find the same group of kids huddled in front of the dungeon door. It looked like it was our turn to enter the play pen. We grabbed lit up vests and held our guns to the ready. I had purposely worn black that day, in order to keep myself hidden from searching eyes.
The woman shouted “When the doors open, you have 30 seconds to hide. Then, the game begins.” For me, it wasn’t just game time. It was time for revenge.
I stealthily move around the maze, searching for a good place to camp out until I find my enemy. I make sure no one can see me, even through a reflection from the many mirrors on the walls. It seems too easy, being able to shoot children from just a mere refraction of light. But my point total soars as I keep hitting my mark. I keep myself from feeling satisfied, and keep searching for my real target
My finger is on the trigger and I am about to click, when I suddenly hear a voice from the helpless creature.
“Please, don’t shoot me Lily, I’m on your team!” he cries pathetically.
“Maybe you should have thought about this before you annoyed the crap out of me!” I counter, “I’m sorry but enough is enough.”
I pull back the trigger, and for one fleeting second, I think I have accomplished my goal. I hear a loud thunderous beeping, and my gun flashes back at me, teasing me. GAME OVER.