Inklings 2020

PAINBALL Vali Hassan I thought this birthday party would be a fun, painless experience. But you know what they say: war never changes. It’s Saturday morning. My friend is throwing a birthday party at a paintball place, and I’ve never played before. From what I know, there’ll be Nerf-looking guns that shoot soft balls filled with paint that pops on impact. Nothing too bad. I wear a t-shirt and shorts, as always, and expect they’ll probably give me plenty of gear in order to protect myself. At the place, I see one of my friends who is wearing a jacket and jeans; he tells me I should be wearing more protective clothes. I figure I’ll wash the paint off later. One of the employees arrives – we’ll call him Tony. Tony shows us the protective vests, ski-mask-looking helmets, and paintball guns, but there is no leg or arm protection. The guns do not look like Nerf guns at all. They are black with long barrels and oval-shaped containers on top that hold paintballs. I put on my equipment and load my gun. It looks like a war zone. Everything has red paint all over it, like splatters of blood. The rules: if someone gets shot, they put their hands up and walk to the starting area. Last team standing wins. One shot, one kill. Interesting. After testing out our guns on the floor, the time comes. “Ready. Start!” I hide behind a wall with a small window to shoot through. I peek out. Clank! A bullet hits a barrel next to me and lets out a loud metallic ring. I drop to the ground to avoid fire as more bullets hit the walls. I turn around and see one of my friends sprinting to this small shed before – POP! A bullet hits him right in the chest, and he lets out a small grunt before he raises his hands up in the air. I have to think about this; I don’t want to get out super fast like him. Then, I spot an enemy peeking out from behind a car, and I pull the trigger. Bam! I hit the side of the car, and he’s startled by the noise. Now, this is fun. I keep looking out for that one enemy to come out of cover. I hear footsteps and whip around to see an enemy – the birthday boy – running through the side door. 44