I became one when I was about five. I sat watching my brother (whose name is Gabe, so I can ridicule at him now) play for hours, days at a time. He taught me how to play, and now it's somewhat 'fixed' me. I thought that something so scrawny could get past all that other stuff, well... wow. I'm not as, how should I word it, spookable anymore. And for some odd reson I became more literate, on the omputer and in the real world. Quite funny really, and after I got my tonsils removed, I could sound like anything off the game, including sligs. I creep my friends out when I do that.
But, alas, my mother does not like it. I had all of the games (AO AE and MO) in a cool collectors box thing and my mother watched me play for a bit. When I returned from my fun day, it was ruined. Where my box had been was only a note saying 'These games will corrupt your mind, hun. I sold them to slackers, but I did get you something new.'. The new thing was morrowind. I have beaten Dagoth Ur (the big guy) and put the game to rest (letting my dad obsess over it). Never have I seen my games (I wrote my name on the front of each disk, and they still took them) in my twelve year old life (yes, I'm twelve). But something tells me... I'm still not back to full reality.
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