Final Draft WP#2
He was sitting there watching the clock, and it read ten minutes to three, and it was almost time to leave work. The excitement and anxiousness growing with each passing minute, today was the day he was waiting for. He planned for it; two weeks of researching, reading articles and watching videos. He saw it happen over and over in his mind; he knew every maneuver, every danger, and he expected the unexpected. All that preparation he did for the purpose of not letting anyone down, to be able to carry his own weight, and to prove himself. They were going to meet at 5 o’clock sharp, and he couldn’t be late. If he wasn’t there they would go without him or get someone else. On his way home he thought of what supplies he needed, he was in charge of bringing the food for everyone. He packed his bags and headed off to the entrance of the cave. The road was narrow and wound through the trees; the first turn was a left at the dying Oak that seemed to twist into the sky beyond sight with smaller saplings entwined at its trunk thirsting for life as the roots tapered off to the nearby stream. He felt his heart racing and his muscles twitching with anticipation of exploring the cave for the first time. The murky swamp was the next marker. The trail led to the right and he knew the cave was close. He could hear the toads, the crickets, and the sounds of rippling water. In the distance he could see it, the huge rough jagged stone that outlined the opening. The reddish brown and gray boulders helped keep it hidden deep in the woods. The moss that stretched up the rocks was a vivid green that faded to brown, blending in with the wooden beams that formed the opening and provided support from collapse. He could hear the birds squawking and fluttering as if they knew of his adventure and were cheering him on. The water rushing over the rocks in the stream leant company to the twigs and leaves that broke beneath the feet of his approaching comrades. The air was filled with hearty greetings as everyone gathered at the entrance. They split into groups and discussed what their responsibilities were going to be; he knew the plan, and was ready, so he handed out the food and they started to head into the unknown. Moving slowly and cautiously along the rough walls staying in a close formation waiting for the moment when… “MARK YOU NEED TO TAKE OUT THE TRASH, AND FEED THE DOG!” she yelled from downstairs. “NOT YET WE JUST GOT INTO GRUUL’S LAIR” I exclaimed. “IT’S A VIDEO GAME DAMN IT, WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO REALIZE IT’S NOT REAL.” I heard this from her too many times to count, but for me it was real. This was how I spent most of my days; this was my “Warcraft Addiction” or “Warcrack” as I called it. I had spent so many hours; days, months, and eventually years playing this game that it became a part of me. I wasn’t just controlling a character on the screen. I was GUTWRENCH. With my alter ego I was able to be whatever I wanted, and act however I wanted with no real consequences to affect me, or so I thought. What had been affected were my family and my “RL” real life friends, and as with any addiction it consumed my life. As a drug addict is always looking for that next fix, or the alcoholic thirsting for that next drink, I yearned for the excitement and thrill of the next “Dungeon or Raid” that next level to advance to, that desire to be the best. Was I alone? Was I the only one experiencing this? Probably not since the “World of Warcraft” game has over 11 million subscribers worldwide, I couldn’t be alone. This wasn’t something new. This type of fantasy game has been around long before the creation of the internet. It was played with books and dice and left to the imagination of the players. Today with the development of the internet and the ability to play such games with people across the world, the MMORPG’s (Massive Multiplayer Online Role Playing Games) craze...
Please join StudyMode to read the full document