Everyone has “firsts” when they arrive to college. Your first time attempting laundry solo, the first time ditching your ridiculous 8 AM math course, even your first frat party (which you hopefully survived without becoming Katy Perry in “Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F)”). Those are the basics. But there are also those less-obvious “firsts,” the ones that stand as unofficial “Welcome” signs into the lifestyle of a true college student. Late nights at Crossroads, floormate birthday celebrations, getting locked out of your room. And this week, I experienced another important one: my first game of Assassin.

Okay okay, as Wikipedia has now informed me, Assassin is apparently quite common on college campuses, but upon my arrival to Unit 1, I had literally no idea. So when a couple of floor mates knocked on my door this week to ask if I wanted to play, my first question was, “Wait… what exactly is Assassin?” Luckily, they had enough patience to explain the rules and I agreed to participate. Little did I know that some people take these so-called “games” very seriously. All that cursing emanating from the room next door during a late night round of Super Smash Bros should’ve definitely been an indication of what was to come.

Within minutes of the game’s start, people were forming alliances, making accusations of other’s targets, and even brainstorming effective winning strategies. Suddenly, this seemed a lot more like The Hunger Games than a casual dorm activity. So I decided to take a page out of Katniss’ book. I figured that while people were busy seeking each other out for the kill, I would do the opposite and take straight to the safest place: my room. I planned to wait it out until everyone else had assassinated each other, thus making it much easier for me to become the lone victor of district floor two.

So with this plan in mind, all there was left to do was wait. In my dorm room. In the ridiculous Berkeley heat. Oh crap. Going out into the hallway, I risked (virtual) death and defeat; even a trip to the water fountain seemed hazardous. Playing Assassin made me feel like Marshall without his health insurance; I realized death is all around us.

Somehow, I made it through that first day. And part of the next too. I was actually doing fine as a dorm room hermit, entertaining myself with television premieres (AMERICAN HORROR STORY ASYLUM, WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN?) and several iTunes mixes of #winning music. That is, until yesterday afternoon, when I was innocently making my way through the Jenna Marbles video archive. Somehow, a floor mate came into my room (the door was definitely closed, by the way) and boom, my part in the First Annual Putnam Hunger Games was over. And I must say, experiencing even a fake death is more than a little disheartening. Especially when you find out later that your own roommate was the one who handed the key to your assassin, allowing them to enter and kill you just as you were learning how guys pack a suitcase. Let’s just say my next iTunes playlist was a lot less “Edge of Glory” and a lot more ADELE.

But, as is everything in college, Assassin was a learning experience. At times, you just can’t trust anyone, even your roommates (though karma definitely evens it out in the end). Life is worth more than just sitting in your dorm room all day (even with all the best television shows and infinite playlists of Vampire Weekend) in an attempt to avoid your (virtual) doom. And most importantly, some of the best inspiration for a blog post can come to you at 1:00 AM the day that it needs to be published. Ahh, the joys of college life.

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