So many people are getting shot lately! This morning was epic- a trained gunman was rolling dramatically across the walls, when unfortunately, he failed to hide himself from my ninja eyes, and I trained my gun on him. "Freeze!" I ordered, and he turned his eyes on me and froze for a few seconds, and then, with speed unbeleivable to someone as fantastic a gunman as I, he unfroze and shot and ran out the open door before I could do so much as blink. I flew up against the wall with a screech, and then crumpled to the ground. Then I heard my sister's voice: "*Nathan!"
I heard her footsteps run past me as I lay convulsing (with laughter, but you don't know that,) on the ground. Then her voice again: "Nathan! You. Killed. My. Sister!" Then she stormed back into the school right past my still convulsing body to the choir room. She didn't even greive. I think she only yelled at Nathan out of a sense of duty.
The Lion at least helped me up.
When you read this, you probably laughed. And I must admit, so did I. But what this incident brought to my mind was this: people really don't care as much as they used to. When I was younger, any portrayal of violence brought bile to my throat and nausea to both my physical body and to my heart. A nauseous heart is rather uncomfortable, I must say. Any thought of inflicting harm such as this on another human being caused me to feel sick for that time and for a while after. But as I've watched more violent movies, and played more violent roleplays, and made light of others' pain, I've found that my senses have been dulled, my mind has become accustomed to violence- maybe not as much as others', but too much for my liking. I laugh as I pretend to kill. And as I think of this, it sickens me. I'm not saying any of us are bad people for playing these shooting games, for I still play them myself. It just starts me thinking...
*Name changed for his personal comfort and safety. :)
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