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First-person shooters.

From over 900 pages of documents seized at the homes of Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris, including school assignments and chat-room transcripts, released in July by the Sheriff's Office of Jefferson County, Colorado, resulting from a motion filed in 2002. On April 20, 1999, Klebold and Harris killed thirteen people and themselves at Columbine High School, near Littleton, Colorado.

Similarities between Zeus and I by Eric Harris

The Greek god Zeus is similar to me for many reasons. First, I try to settle problems in a mature, nonviolent manner, and so does Zeus. I often try to create new things, just as Zeus, the ruler of the Gods, creates new rules and animals. Zeus and I both like to be powerful. I usually turn out to be a great leader, just like Zeus. We both get angry easily and punish people in unusual ways, as when Prometheus stole the gift of fire and was then punished. Lastly, like the god Zeus, I am kind to animals and people. That's why Zeus is the Greek god most similar to me.

Guns by Eric Harris

Guns! Boy, I loved playing guns as a kid. It is one of the few things I miss from childhood. My brother, two friends, and I were always running around shooting imaginary bad guys. The woods behind my old house in Michigan were vast, empty, and old. My brother, Sonia, Kevin, and I made countless missions in those woods, hunting for enemy troops and stopping invasions. "Fire!" I would scream as we all made fast gun sounds, waving our deadly plastic toys. Almost every time we had a firefight, we would pretend one of us was injured. We would always carry little bandages and tape with us to dress the wounds. Sonia, being her crazy self, would run right into the battle, screaming and firing at all the bad guys, as we gave cover fire. One of these days, real soon, I will call Sonia up and see if she still remembers me. It seemed so vivid, our fighting, and so real. Now that I have actually fired weapons I realize how unrealistic we were, but hey, we were just kids!

The Man in Black A short story by Dylan Klebold

At 1:00 A.M., as the man dressed in black walked down the street, not a sound was to be heard, except the jingling of his belt chains striking his two guns in their holsters and his large bowie knife slung in anticipation of use. He looked ready for a small war with whoever came his way, fueled perhaps by what Christians would call evil. He smoked a thin cigar. Even though I was unable to see his expressions, I could feel his anger. He noticed my presence but paid no attention, and kept walking toward a popular bar, The Watering Hole. He stopped about thirty feet from the door and waited. For whom? I wondered. A group of preps walked out of the bar, mildly drunk. Seeing him, they stopped in their tracks, paralyzed with fear. "You still want a fight, huh?" said the largest. "Just a fistfight. C'mon, put the guns away. Fuckin' pussy!" His voice quavered as he spoke these words of attempted courage. The other preps were muttering:

"Nice trench coat, dude."

"We were just messing around with you the other day. Chill out, man."

"I didn't do anything. It was all them."

"C'mon, man. You wouldn't shoot us in public."

The smallest, obviously a cocky, power-hungry prick, said, "Shoot me! Go ahead, I want you to shoot me. Hah, you won't. Goddamn pussy!"

The man in black laughed. It would have made Satan cringe in Hell. Before I could see a reaction from the preps, the man had pulled out one of his pistols. Three shots were fired. Three shots hit the largest prep in the head. The streetlights caused a reflection off the droplets of blood as they flew away from his skull and showered his buddies. The next few were not executed so systematically, but with uncontrolled rage. He set down the guns and pulled out the knife. One of the two left, the smallest, had pissed his pants. The other one lunged at the man, hoping his football-tackling skills would save his life. The man sidestepped and made two slashes at the prep. A small trickle of blood cascaded onto the concrete. The last one, the smallest one, tried to run. The man quickly reloaded and shot him through the lower leg. He instantly fell and cried in pain.

The man pulled an electronic device from his bag. I saw him tweak the dials and press a button. I heard a faint yet powerful explosion--six miles away, I would guess. Then another. After recalling the night many times, I finally understood that these were diversions, to attract the cops.

The last prep, bawling, was attempting to crawl away. The man walked up behind him, and his left hand came down on the prep's head. The metal piece did its work. The town was still, except for the distant wail of police sirens. The man came my way again. He stopped and gave me a look I will never forget. If I could face the emotion of a god, it would look like the man. He smiled, and in that instant, through no endeavor of my own, I understood his actions.

An Internet chat between an unidentified correspondent and Eric Harris, writing under the name REB DoMiNe.

[Redacted]: i will get over him

REB DoMiNe: love in my view means something different to everyone, what one person calls true love can be just a cheap thrill to another

[Redacted]: i think i am just obsessed with the idea of a great boyfriend and hes the closest i got. hes a lot like you

REB DoMiNe: damn

[Redacted]: i am just comfortable with him

REB DoMiNe: why do you feel comfortable with him?

[Redacted]: we can goof off or have a deep conversation

REB DoMiNe: it doesnt seem like he can have a deep conv

[Redacted]: it is easier to have a deep conversation with people that i meet in person because i need to look into their eyes. he has such beautiful eyes

REB DoMiNe: you see, i have never had any convs like this in real life so i wouldnt know

[Redacted]: really never?

REB DoMiNe: nope

[Redacted]: do you not have many close girl friends?

REB DoMiNe: no, i hardly have any

[Redacted]: that seems strange to me

REB DoMiNe: heh i have a bigass feeling you would hate quite a few people here

[Redacted]: a lot of fake people

REB DoMiNe: mhm

[Redacted]: that dont think

REB DoMiNe: followers, airheads, losers, dumbasses

[Redacted]: i hate people like that

REB DoMiNe: they only think about social life instead of life life

[Redacted]: i am so glad you are not like that

REB DoMiNe: you and me are the ones who should be running the world, not all these lameass lying politic

[Redacted]: yeah that would be cool wed have all the answers

REB DoMiNe: i would love to be the ultimate judge ... and say if a person lives or dies

[Redacted]: i would love to hold someones life in ray hand

REB DoMiNe: be godlike

[Redacted]: yeah could i be your goddess?
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Title Annotation:Juvenilia
Publication:Harper's Magazine
Geographic Code:1USA
Date:Sep 1, 2006
Words:1226
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