Elena Otoya

November 30, 2016

Mrs. Hefstad

What is happening? Why is there a rope next to me? Is this part of the game?

“Stand on the chair,” an SS officer roared to the three of us.

In my mind I was trying to understand what action brought me here. I was just

playing a game with my dad. The rules were simple; the camp was full of players,

each player had a number to identify them. I was E-2759 and my father was E-

8167. The SS officers, or how my father and me called them, the recreationist were

here to give us orders, and we must accomplish them in order to get points. When

we entered the game, we started at level one, and the more tasks we completed,

the more points we received, and the more points we got, we got to a higher level.

When I reached level two, my father game me a piece of bread as a prize. The

prize was the same until I got to level four. My father gave me another piece of

bread, but I decided to give it to him, because he was looking too skinny. I don´t

know why, if he was receiving more bread since we were at the same level.

One day my father came to the place where all the players slept almost jumping

from happiness. He told me that we made it to level five; this time the prize was a

ball. A ball! Yay! I was really getting bored of receiving bread, I mean who wants

bread as a price? He told me that I could only play with the ball when he told me

and that I could not let the recreationist see it. It sounded weird, but fair to me.
Normally the tasks that the recreationist ordered the players to do were really

difficult, like running for a really long time or constructing buildings and carrying

heavy stuff. The players were really nice with me, when the bag of cement was too

heavy, they helped me, or when my father was gone doing his tasks, they took

care of me. There was this time, when a player with the number S-8934 looked at

me and started to cry. He started to pray for me and I really did not understand. It

was kind of weird. Was he crazy? Was he sorry for me? I did not know maybe he

was not going to win the game.

It was dark; the sun was already on the other side of the world and the moon

here. I was shaking; my lips were probably purple from the cold. I don´t know why,

but I started to think about my mother. She was playing the same game, but for

women. I wondered if the tasks were the same for them; I don´t think a women can

handle such hard work, but my mom is strong and I know she will win the game.

That night my mind kept spinning, random thoughts came and didn´t let me

sleep. I decided to get a little distracted so I got the ball that my father game me,

and started hitting it against the wall. The ball hit the wall and came back to my

feet. One time I kicked it so hard that it went through the door, out of the room.

Should I go out to get it?

I decided to get out because if a recreationist saw the ball, then I would be in a

big trouble. I got out and I didn´t find the ball. A recreationist showed up.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“Are you trying to escape?”

“What? No! I like this game.”
“Game? Huh! You wish this was a game.”

The next morning I woke up and the same recreationist from last night told me that

he had a new game for me. I was really excited. I did not tell my dad, because I

wanted it to be a surprise for him. I went to see the recreationist. He smiled when I

showed up. He tied my hands and did the same thing with two other players. I

knew they were players because they were wearing the players uniform. He took

us to a place where there were three chairs and a rope. There were players

surrounding us, like in a circle. They look at us with sympathy like if something bad

was about to happen.

What is happening?

We did as the recreationist said. We got up in the chair. Then other

recreationists placed the nooses around our necks, synchronically.

“Long live liberty!” shouted the two men beside me.

What does that even mean?

At first I could not breathe. The eyes of all the players were directed at me.

Staring. My neck is injured. This rope is suffocating me; I can feel each and every

fiber of it. It is cutting my circulation, I think that I´m purple, but this time not for the

cold, but for the lack of oxygen in my body. I feel like dying, people look at me like

I´m dead. Have I been dead the whole game? Was this even a game?
1. How did changing the perspective influence the details/ style you

included? Ex: did you include different details or events than in the

original? Why or why not?

Changing the perspective influence the details and style because the story

is completely different. The thoughts of the character are completely

different than the original character. The style is different, in this case it is a

more childish style and the thoughts of the character are really innocent. I

include different details and events than in the original because it makes the

story of the new character more vivid and real. I used my creative license to

create a world for this character, and yes, in some point the events of the

original story coincide with my story because that was the whole point of the

activity.

2. What literary/ stylistic elements did you use to enhance your

narrative? Give an example of each one you used.

Imagery: At first I could not breathe. The eyes of all the players are directed at

me. Staring. My neck is hurting. This rope is suffocating me; I can feel each and

every fiber of it. I feel like dying, people look at me like I´m dead.

Dialogue:

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“Are you trying to escape?”

“What? No! I like this game.”

“Game? Huh! You wish this were a game.”
Rhetorical Questions: Have I been dead the whole game? Was this even a

game?

Foreshadowing: The next morning I woke up and the same recreationist from last

night told me that he had a new game for me.

3. What happens when you experienced an event from someone else’s

perspective? Why is this so important in today´s world?

When you experience an event from someone else´s perspective is a

completely different story. It helps you understand better what is going on. It

is en eye opener and it shows you a lot of what you have been missing. It is

kind of walking ten miles on someone else´s shoes. When you only listen to

one opinion of an event, you will only have that opinion to relay on, but if you

have a lot of opinions and a lot of stories, then you can make your own

conclusions.

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