#Kirby s enamis manual#

It wasnвЂ™t bright and vibrant like the other game covers. It showed Kirby in front of a black background, grinning strangely. There was no Nintendo watermark anywhere on it, nor was there was copyright notice carved into the cartridge. Finally, something I can play, I thought. I snagged it and a smile spread across my face.

#Kirby s enamis manual#

A dirty, worn out cartridge tucked neatly in the bottom corner of the box with an instruction manual taped to it. I dug through the countless Star Fox cartridges and eventually reached the bottom of the box. вЂњAnything here is half-price,вЂќ she informed me before walking away. She came out a few minutes later with a box, filled with used cartridges. The tall blonde lady I was talking to thought for a second before telling me to wait there and walking into the backroom. I walked over to one of the employees and asked if they had anything else. Walking between shelves, I scanned each one for any signs of Kirby. The colorful posters and Nintendo games were replaced by piles of Fallout and Final Fantasy games. The store wasnвЂ™t as I last remembered it.

вЂњBut, please, not that damn pink thing again!вЂќ I nodded and bolted out of the door, entering into a nearby gaming shop. вЂњGo and buy a game, any game,вЂќ my Mom had told me. My parents were worried for me, so instead of a Kirby game, they gave me a wad of ten dollar bills for my birthday. I was a teenager now, and Kirby was still a part of my daily routine. Two years later, it was my thirteenth birthday. It was the complete lack of order that drew me in to Kirby games. It was nothing but happy times, jumping around the hills of Dreamland. While all the kids in my class were playing Mortal Kombat 3 and World of Warcraft, I continued my unhealthy addiction to Kirby. I began developing an almost cult-like relationship with Kirby and his games. All of them had that one magic word in the title: Kirby. My shelves were stocked with every game you could imagine. My bedroom walls were covered by posters of Kirby. By the time my eleventh birthday rolled around, I hadnвЂ™t grown out of Kirby as Mom had hoped. I swept the entire house, cleaned the dishes, and did any other chore imaginable just to earn enough money to go to the game store and see KirbyвЂ™s face on that cartridge.

Over the years, I began collecting Kirby games. It was only when Mom turned off the NES that I returned to reality. A world where I could just be a pink wad of cotton candy and have my own adventures.

A world where up was down and down was right. My hands shook as I held the controller up and began playing. Excitement filled me as I ripped open the packaging and shoved the cartridge into my NES. I got my first Kirby game, KirbyвЂ™s Adventure, for my ninth birthday. Nostalgias are childhood homes or old pictures. A world where they have total control a world where there are no limits a world where everything is right. Things that tear them apart from reality and put them in their own world.