Civil War.

I didn't tell my parents how I felt about it; that I didn't want to have the operation because I wasn't ready to die. I did, however, put on the bravest face I had and told them I would do what was necessary and I understood what it meant not to have the surgery. But perhaps I didn't fully grasp the concept of what was going to happen to me because what I knew about surgery was both my cat and my great-grandmother went under the knife and neither one come back up. I didn't know anyone who made it out alive so it seemed like it was an extremely risky procedure. It made me think about one of the comments my fourth grade teacher wrote on my report card. She said that I 'play well others, has a competitive spirit and is a risk taker and a natural born leader.' At the time, I didn't exactly know what that meant, but it started to look like she was right. Here I was on the front line of a battle to save my life and I was going to fight to the end even if it meant getting slain in the process. It was war and while I was still confused as to whom I was fighting against, I was sure that every war had casualties and people made sacrifices so the greater good would reap the rewards, but it seemed as if the battle was within me and there would no one to benefit from my sacrifice. I'll admit that my metaphor was a little skewed, but I knew I had to take the risk and be the brave solider no matter what the odd were.

Perhaps that was the first role I ever played long before I realized I could take my pretend game out into the real world. Ironically I never wanted to play the dying child role because the reality of the situation might force me to face what I didn't want to. No, my real world pretend game was for me to escape, so that's just what I did. I wanted to get lost in the lives of other people and really become them, not just spontaneously making up with a story off the top of my head; my next character was going to be carefully thought out and planned, researched and prepared.