Magic Missile could have saved my life.
First PC ever, a Lvl 1 Wizard called Eggnog (Red Box) I was 12 years old, I arrived late to my very first session of D&D (I was out racing on bikes) and so the DM kindly stopped the game (the other four players, also 12-14 years old, were moaning like crazy). I only got a place at the gaming table because my brother was in with the other guys. So, approx. thirty minutes later Eggnog is born, all I have to do is get him from the town to the dungeon (and catch up with the other players- at last).
But what's this- a lone Kobold.
The kindly DM gave me initiative, I tried for a spell with an attack roll- the DM kept telling me to use a Magic Missile (or whatever it was called back then) but I wasn't listening. I am EGGNOG THE MIGHTY. I send Gandalf to the shops for my Dr. Who Ice lollies, that's how tough Eggnog is.
Anyway, I missed- thirty seconds later and Eggnog's dead.
The DM, now as fed up with me as the other players (I didn't take Eggnog's death very well), said I could roll up another PC for the next session.
I ran off in rage.
Damn them all.
Damn D&D.
Damn it.
I was hooked.
I brooded for a year or so... reading books, specialist (top shelf) magazines (Imagine, White Dwarf), making plans.
Then I was back.
Aged 13- voice breaking, hair in rum places- in the early stages of noticing girls.
I was ready, I had matured.
I became a DM.
I've been killing PCs ever since.
Cheers goonalan