“In time, you will know the tragic extent of my failings,” a narrator spoke as I booted up Darkest Dungeon.
Life is sometimes like a video game. At least, I like to see it as such. I like to think of life as one of those big RPG games where your character and the world around your character contains a big and elaborate story that you have to navigate and discover for yourself. I remember getting my first gaming system when I was a child, a Wii, with no games (yet) except for Wii Sports which came with the system. My mom bought it for me, or at least I remember her buying it for me. I was a lot younger then. I was a lot happier.
I remember playing Wii Sports, the sword fighting game, with my mom. The best way to win in this game is to wildly swing your remote around, hitting the opponent multiple times in one go. I taught my mom this trick, and got mad at her when she won. “Mom, stop doing that!” I remember shouting at her. But I wasn’t angry for long, she was my mother, after all, and she was playing a video game with me. I was lucky for that, and I knew it. Times were a lot simpler and easier back then. All I had to worry about was homework, school, and a few extracurricular activities. Today, I can’t even remember what those activities were. I had the time to just be a kid, a far cry from what I have to worry about and manage now.
Sometimes, while I do like how I've turned out so far, I wished that things wouldn’t have gone as wrong as they did.
Life is sometimes like a video game. At least, I like to see it as such. I like to think of life as one of those big RPG games where your character and the world around your character contains a big and elaborate story that you have to navigate and discover for yourself. I remember getting my first gaming system when I was a child, a Wii, with no games (yet) except for Wii Sports which came with the system. My mom bought it for me, or at least I remember her buying it for me. I was a lot younger then. I was a lot happier.
I remember playing Wii Sports, the sword fighting game, with my mom. The best way to win in this game is to wildly swing your remote around, hitting the opponent multiple times in one go. I taught my mom this trick, and got mad at her when she won. “Mom, stop doing that!” I remember shouting at her. But I wasn’t angry for long, she was my mother, after all, and she was playing a video game with me. I was lucky for that, and I knew it. Times were a lot simpler and easier back then. All I had to worry about was homework, school, and a few extracurricular activities. Today, I can’t even remember what those activities were. I had the time to just be a kid, a far cry from what I have to worry about and manage now.
Sometimes, while I do like how I've turned out so far, I wished that things wouldn’t have gone as wrong as they did.
"Life sometimes is almost like a video game. I like to see it as such at least."
“As life ebbs, terrible vistas of emptiness reveal themselves,” the narrator of Darkest Dungeon announces as one of my characters is nearly killed. I sit in silent worry.
When you have played many games, you begin to see how different they are from one another. Stardew Valley is a game where you go to a small town and start your own farm. It’s supposed to be a chill, laid-back, relaxing type of game that you play for fun. Darkest Dungeon is not that kind of game. When booting into the game, you are greeted with a cutscene with the heavy voice of the narrator and characters, both human and monsters, looking as though they have been through hell. In the game, you need to prepare for loss. Your favorite characters will die, the important items that you spend so much time gaining will get lost. Nothing gained will last. Not even the things you start with.
My mom died when I was eight. Her death was slow, gradual. I didn’t notice it at first, I was just a kid and thought that she had gotten some simple illness like a fever. But over time, things worsened. Her hair fell out and she had to wear a wig. I’d tell her “your hair looks so pretty today mom,” knowing full well that it wasn’t her real hair. Then she laid in bed for days at a time, then she moved into a hospital bed, then she stopped walking, then one day, she fell asleep. I like to imagine that it was peaceful, painless, like those emotional movies that slowly fade out. She never woke up from that sleep, and I would never hear her voice again. She was gone, and that was the end of that.
When you have played many games, you begin to see how different they are from one another. Stardew Valley is a game where you go to a small town and start your own farm. It’s supposed to be a chill, laid-back, relaxing type of game that you play for fun. Darkest Dungeon is not that kind of game. When booting into the game, you are greeted with a cutscene with the heavy voice of the narrator and characters, both human and monsters, looking as though they have been through hell. In the game, you need to prepare for loss. Your favorite characters will die, the important items that you spend so much time gaining will get lost. Nothing gained will last. Not even the things you start with.
My mom died when I was eight. Her death was slow, gradual. I didn’t notice it at first, I was just a kid and thought that she had gotten some simple illness like a fever. But over time, things worsened. Her hair fell out and she had to wear a wig. I’d tell her “your hair looks so pretty today mom,” knowing full well that it wasn’t her real hair. Then she laid in bed for days at a time, then she moved into a hospital bed, then she stopped walking, then one day, she fell asleep. I like to imagine that it was peaceful, painless, like those emotional movies that slowly fade out. She never woke up from that sleep, and I would never hear her voice again. She was gone, and that was the end of that.
Whenever you start a new game, there’s usually a tutorial. The tutorial is meant to help new players understand the mechanics of the game, such as “how to move your character,” “how to change your camera direction,” or “how to pick up items.” Sometimes afterwards, the game points you in a direction to face whatever the game throws at you. Dark Souls is a game notorious for being difficult. Despite this, even it has a tutorial to help you grasp the basics. There are many notable moments in this game, however the most memorable perhaps for newcomers happens in the beginning of the tutorial. Your character sits down at a bonfire, a checkpoint (or a save point) in the game. Directly behind the bonfire is a massive gate that you must open (though the player isn’t told to open this gate). Your character pushes it open slowly, and the player can feel the weight of the gate being pushed open. Once open, your character is greeted by an empty, open room where a large, grotesque demon jumps onto the floor. Maybe you dodge its giant hammer, maybe you try to hit it with your broken sword, maybe you try to kill it with your broken sword. But no matter what you do, your character will be killed, without fail each and every time. It’s only until you observe the room again and notice a small doorway do you realize that you can run away from the demon and deal with it later. The game never tells you that you don’t have to fight some enemies. You must discover this yourself. There is always the option to go onto YouTube and look at a guide, but still, you’ve got to figure it out yourself. The game’s tutorial teaches you some of what you need to know, but the rest you must discover for yourself.
"Nothing gained may last. Not even the things you start with."
It has been difficult growing up without a mother, and, to an extent, without both of my parents. In some games, you have a mentor, or just a character who helps you along your journey. I didn’t have a mentor, not for long at least. After my mother’s funeral, I had to move to China. I moved in with an aunt, who never seemed to smile when I was with her. I only saw my father once a month. I quickly realized that I couldn't depend on the adults in my life; I’ve had to figure out many things for myself. I've had to learn how to talk to people, how to manage my emotions, how to manage my own time to make space for schoolwork. All of it I've needed to do myself. It's been bumpy, and I've been hurt many times. But I've had no choice but to keep going, to progress further into the game, just like one of the players in my games. If you don't play, you won't progress. Sure, it would’ve been better to have guidance from an adult, to have help figuring out all these things in life, but sometimes things aren’t fair. I like to think I’ve figured things out, despite the few difficulties that I still face today.
You can learn to enjoy life, to have fun with obstacles coming towards you, and surpass them, gaining experience as you pass each and every one and emerge the other side a better version of yourself. It was difficult growing up, but seeing how far I’ve come from a crying child who had just lost his mother, to someone comfortable in my own skin, I can’t help but feel that things might just be okay.
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About the Author
Nathan Yang is a first-year student. He wrote this essay for English 104 with Professor Caroline Casper. When he was assigned to write this narrative, he already knew his own life held stories waiting to be witnessed by the eyes of others. |