My Friend Wardog
By Veronica Wiley Click. Click, click. Beep, beep, beep. Click, click, click. “Come on, Tazman! Where are you?” I shouted into my headset. “On your six, but my computer’s lagging. I can’t shoot,” he answered. “I’m hit! Where are you? Argh! I can’t….” Crash! My controller hit the wall as my avatar fell to the digital dirt. I ran my fingers through my overgrown black hair and stared at the hundreds of dollars of armor I’d have to buy all over again. In this game you didn’t just lose when you died; you lost everything. “Are you okay, Marcus?” My mom’s muffled voice came from down the hall. “Yeah,” I swallowed hard and then called back at her, “just dropped something.” “That was pretty loud for just dropping something.” Her voice grew closer. “I’m fine, Mom!” I bit my thumbnail and stared at the KILLED text flashing over my avatar’s dead body. How could I tell her I just threw a two-hundred-dollar controller at the wall? I shoved my gaming chair away from the desk and stood. M...
