The age of paranoia

The day is Sunday, April 12, 6 pm. My phone alerted me with a quick chirp. I picked up my phone to read the dreaded message, “Let the Games Begin.” The battle has started; Senior Assassin has now begun.

I was sitting in a church pew as sweat beads started to form. I reached for my neon pink goggles, forcefully pulling them over my head. It was the only way to ensure my safety. I made sure my newly …