







When FaHooNews.com was conceived, I never planned on making myself the center of a story. I've always preferred telling the stories of others. But after being made aware of yet another war that was started by the corporate conglomerate, Activision, I knew it was time to tell my story.





Many don't know this about me, but I am a veteran. I served a full term in the first Modern Warfare back in 2007 and another partial term in 2016 when the war was remastered. I can still vividly remember the day I enrolled. It was November 5th, 2007. Activision had been running propaganda for many months prior. Like many of my colleagues, I was eager to run into battle.





I was a fresh-faced, 7th grader, whose balls hadn't even dropped yet (as I would be told over and over again by my fellow soldiers). My lack of experience did not deter my enthusiasm, though. My 4 friends and I convinced our parents to allow us to skip school, being that it was a Monday, so we could enlist the very first day. We waited in a 3-hour line at our local Walmart to pay our dues. Had I known what was coming, though, I would have never encouraged my friends to join me on that fateful day.





Things started out exactly as I imagined. I quickly proved my skills, posting a 4 to 1 K/D. I was eventually recruited into a special forces clan by the codename [iKill]. We were one of the most feared divisions in the military and ranked top 3 on GameBattles. We swept through fights, destroying terrorist groups. After spending days together, [iKill] became my brothers.





By then, I had completely cut myself off from the outside world. The 4 friends I enrolled with were all dead to me. They had, like, a .43 KD. Not a chance you would catch me in battle with them. We were headed in two different directions, and I wasn't willing to give up what I thought was a bright future.





Unfortunately, the glory days didn't last. Everything changed in an instance. Activision decided to start another war only a year later in November 2008. Here I was thinking we were fighting for something meaningful when, in reality, it was all just one big money grab.

Nonetheless, I attempted to make the transition over, but my skills were diminished by the World War 2 guns they handed me. Nothing was the same: Claymores were replaced with bouncy betty's. Desert Eagles were stripped from the game. Even my clan members moved on to other teams.





I was broken, not even close to the soldier I once was. My K/D tanked to a .98. I knew my career was over. I was honorably discharged from the army on January 4th, 2009, after my mom sold my Xbox when a controller found it's way into the TV.





After being discharged, I tried to reenter the real world. I was in 9th grade at this point, my balls were dropping, and football games on Friday night were the thing. Yet, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to connect with others. I was unaware at the time, but PTSD had completely taken control of my life.





I have a memory of one specific Friday night when I saw the same 4 friends that I enlisted with at a football game. They were socializing, fooling around, and acting like they hadn't seen the things I knew they saw. We both witnessed xXxShootaXSkillzxXx get banned for life from Xbox live for war crimes and saying the 'N' word one too many times. One of the best soldiers I knew, gone never to be heard of again.





They acted like they hadn't seen their friends murdered, over and over again. They simply moved on with their lives, started talking to girls, and going to parties. I hated them for that but envied their abilities to move forward with their lives.





All in all, I spent 48 days fighting in the war, something that Activision tracked. It took me over 6 years to regain any sort of social skills I previously had. To this day, I still have reoccurring nightmares. I wake up, get killed, wake up, get killed; over and over and over again. I'm in an endless cycle of being spawn killed by noob tubes. The nightmares don't end until my mother wakes me up from the other room and tells me to move out. I yell back that 26 is a completely normal age to still live with your parents. She busts through my door, angrily lecturing me on how she moved out when she was 15. "ENEMIES FLANKING FROM THE NORTH!" I yell. I'm having a full-blown episode, which always ends in tears, and my dad calling me a fag.





So what's the point of all this? Well, I guess I wrote this article as a PSA for young, enthusiastic kids to think twice before signing up for virtual war. I, by no means, see myself as some sort of morally superior person. I've said some things on Live that got me suspended for weeks. I've allowed my friends to attempt to defuse a bomb, knowing damn well that they would be killed so I could identify the target. I've camped. I've even noob tubed.





I only ask that this is seen as a warning. Activision starts wars for monetary purposes. Educated yourself before you enroll. Develop social skills, go to parties, talk to girls. I'd say wait until college to make that decision. Just know, the virtual battlefield isn't all glitz and glamour like that bullshit 'League of Legends' on ESPN appears. War is hell, remember that.