Essay-Personal Narrative

I walked to the attendance desk of the video game tournament and told a young, tired blonde woman my name and competitive alias. She smiled. "You're good to go," she said as she gave me a colored bracelet.

I looked to my side and saw a small lake flooded with hundreds of fish, all fighting for the same prize. The nerves began to sink in. It was time to play. I slowly, uncomfortably waded through the sea of competitors, looking to find a TV to practice on. If I didn't warm up, how would I be able to perform? I finally found an old TV that was open in the corner. Two people were already playing on it, so I quickly asked, "Hey, can I join you guys?" Before waiting for a response, I eagerly began untangling my controller's cord.

As I played

Half of the buildings were boarded up and those that weren't looked dilapidated and poorly managed, disparate from the cozy suburbs where I have been all my life. As my stomach sank, we walked into the seatless restaurant.

"What are you getting?" Sam asked.

"Oh, I don't think I want anything," I replied. My appetite was long gone.

As we waited, we called up another Uber to take us back to the tournament building. The driver was to take 12 minutes. After we picked up the nosh, we exited the building. As we waited, I repeatedly asked Sam how much time the Uber had left, my levels of worry rising. Time seemed to have slowed down.

It did not take long for my fears to be validated. To my left, a young boy, no older than 14, was walking towards us. My eyes widened as a knife glinted in his hand. I quickly peeled my eyes away from him, my maelstrom of thoughts spiraling further. As he passed us, he started hollering at a man farther down the street, who screamed back at him. I stared as he swaggered away.

Not a minute later, our Uber arrived. I frantically climbed in and looked at Sam. "O-oh my god, that was terrifying!" I