Creepypasta Stories

Why I Will Never Play Another Mario Game

By: insomniaccccc

I am writing this post in hopes that someone can tell me they have experienced something similar. I don't know why I care about that; no matter what anyone says the situation will be the same and I will still think that I am losing my shit. Anyways, I hope everyone will take what I am saying seriously. I know how it sounds; if I were reading this on some random thread on Reddit, I would be skeptical as well. But take everything I say seriously, for everything I am about to say is 100% true.

I go to college at the University of Maine. I am currently going to grad school here, trying to get my PhD in surface sciences. I am very passionate about science and mainly computers. My first computer was an IBM, an old thing that was revolutionary for the time that left my 11 year old mind amazed. In '95, I was really into playing Doom and Wolfenstein 3D when I got home from school. My mom and dad never really got mad at me because they were always at work, so no one really told me to stop playing these violent games.

My love for these games continued through the 90's but really peaked at the beginning of 1996. I was a typical 90's kid; obsessed with Fresh Prince of Bel Air, fanny packs, mullets, classic horror movies, and even for a stint of time I had a Tamagotchi. With the coming of school in the fall of '96 came the sadness of not being able to play video games everyday as I did in the summer. However, school did bring the joy of friends. At lunch and sometimes in class we would talk about games and new releases that would be coming out soon. Back then, we didn't have websites dedicated to video games news. Instead, my friend group relied on Jeff, one of the more wealthy kids in our friend group who was subscribed to a video game magazine company that sent out an issue once a month. On the last day of August, Jeff brought the latest issue to school. All of us crowded around the lunch table to catch a glimpse and the new system that was coming out next month: the Nintendo 64. We all were begging our parents that night to help us with money to get the system. The N64 was an amazing system as it had 4 MB of RAM and could handle 3D graphics like none other before.

I had saved a little money from mowing lawns in the summer, but it was not quite enough to buy the console come September 29th of that year. I was disappointed and cried to my parents to help me out, just this once, to buy this great piece of technology. But my family was struggling at the time, and me being the understanding and caring child just piped down.

A couple of "hard" months pass, and with them came many complaints and jeering from my friend group because I have still not received the console. It had been a difficult time for me; my parents were fighting and I just wanted an escape. I would have given anything for that damn console. I hated going to school and hearing all of my friends show off their high scores in the newest games and hearing about them finding secret glitches in the newest installment of our favorite games.

Months after the initial release in September, November rolled around. Not exactly my favorite time of the year; I don't like the transition from the pretty orange and yellow fall leaves into roads covered with slick ice and disgusting dark large piles of snow in parking lots with dirt in them. However, there was one thing that is worth my time during that dreaded month: my birthday. 12 years old. Birthdays never really made much sense to me. It is just a celebration of the day someone was born that is based on the manmade unit of time that is elongated into years. Anyways, I hadn't been really looking forward to this birthday because I knew that it wasn't going to bring around much. As I said before, my parents had been fighting and I really didn't expect to get anything from either of them because they had been so busy with work and putting up with each other. That is why I was very, very excited to learn on the 19th of that month in 1996 that I was getting $250 for my birthday. I came home that night after school to find a letter from my mom, who had always been the more caring of the two.