My dream didn't entirely die with Grandpa, but a significant part of it did. My only supporter was gone, leaving me with a cryptic final message. Some might take such a moment as motivation, feeling a stronger drive to achieve their dreams. Others might break down, losing all motivation. I was simply too preoccupied with school. Each year, the classes grew more challenging. My parents pushed me to excel, enrolling me in AP courses and tutoring me in advanced subjects during their free time. They forced me to partake in volunteering for the local library, and joining the club for NHS. There wasn't a class on 'How to Be an Adventurer,' and even if there were, my parents would deem it a waste, believing it would take up a valuable slot for other classes. This began in middle school and continued through my senior year. The reality of my situation gradually sank in as I grew older. I lacked the time, the drive, and the support necessary to keep dreaming. Perhaps it was time for me to accept what was inevitable. Maybe I needed to keep sleeping. Maybe my dream was just that—a dream.

That's an internal conflict I struggle with. To be honest, I have a great life. I have a full-ride scholarship, valuable connections, a guaranteed stable job, and basic knowledge of taxes and paying bills. Yet, I don't feel happy. I'm not particularly looking forward to graduation day, and I dislike spending most of my day studying. Why? As I mentioned, once I graduate, it will be impossible for me to pursue my dream. My path has already been chosen for me, and there's no way my parents would allow me to deviate from it, especially for an uncertain dream like "being an adventurer." But I don't want that. I don't want to program for the rest of my life. I still want to explore. I want to be free.

I know I may sound selfish, perhaps even spoiled. Most people would do anything for a full-ride scholarship and a stable job, yet here I am, desiring none of it. But why is that? Why are people with comfortable lives not allowed to voice their dissatisfaction? I understand this sounds bad—I can hardly believe I thought it myself. But bear with me. If I score an 80 on a test, am I wrong for feeling disappointed? Should I simply be content because some of my classmates failed and received scores of 40 or less? Why should other people's opinions influence my desires? Why is it wrong for me to want more? Here's another example: if I stub my toe, is it acceptable for me to cry out in pain? Or should I just be thankful it’s not more serious, considering that some people lose their legs in accidents? Am I not allowed to complain or express pain? It may sound drastic, but I do believe it still holds some truth. It holds even more, since that isn’t the only aspect of people’s lives that are affected by societal expectations.

Life itself is also influenced by society. If you really think about it, your actions and thoughts don't give your life meaning—your life's meaning is defined by how others value it. Take the light bulb, for example. The light bulb is a crucial necessity that remains widely used today, which is why we continue to learn about Thomas Edison and the significant impact his invention has had on us. But isn't that strange? We only know about Edison because of his invention. What about his childhood stories, his first love, his favorite game growing up, his fears, and his dreams as a young man? Why don't we know any of that? It's because we simply don't care. All we care about is what his life's work provided us. As long as we can benefit from his work, we are willing to learn about him, but not his actual life. It is only his invention that gives his life meaning. It's society that gives his life meaning.

That’s what I dislike about society, and people in general. We give so much power to society. We want to be seen as the good guys. We want to be remembered well past our deaths. We want to feel like we mattered. So, we decide to focus our entire lives on creating. Some create innovative technology, others scientific theories, new lives, media, or even conflict. It’s a sad reality. By default, humans are social creatures, and we yearn for fellow human contact. It’s only natural that we fear being forgotten, so we try our best to make ourselves memorable, to prove that our life mattered. And we do that, by giving society the power to decide that for us. Huh. Am I the same then? Do I want to be an adventurer for the purpose of exploring, or to be remembered by the entire world?

Moving on, I don’t believe life is inherently meaningless. Sure, in the grand scheme of things, nothing matters. Nothing will exist forever, and the memories we try so hard to preserve will eventually fade away without anyone to remember them. But, I still want to live. It’s not like I just want to roll over and die. I like eating. I like playing video games with Robert and Sam. I like making my parents proud. I like sleeping. I love dreaming, for a future where I’m no longer dreaming. Maybe life is meaningless, maybe it’s not. But, I don’t really care that much. I’m too busy to be worried about topics like that, since I just reached the library.

The shabby public library definitely looked worse for wear. It’s been here for quite a while now, with it being already old when my grandpa moved here as a child. The stairs leading up to it looked like fragile dinosaur fossils, with a railing that was on its last leg. Carefully, I walked up the stairs, while making sure to not touch the railing. The double doors of the library had been replaced a couple of times throughout the years. The previous doors were made out of dark oak wood, but after an accident involving some kids and a baseball bat, they replaced them with…wooden planks? Wow, this library really needs more funding. I sort of felt sorry for the building. It probably used to look beautiful, with its imposing size and the blood red bricks lining the walls. But now, the bricks were the same color as my toilet last night.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

I entered the library and was almost knocked out by an acidic smell. What the fuck is that? I made my way to the checkout and greeted Mrs.Goss. Mrs.Goss looked like she grew up with the library. She seemed so frail that if she were at the birthday party of a small child, the child’s blows at the candle would end up sweeping her away. Her hair was the complete opposite of her teeth, with her teeth being as golden as King Midas, and her hair looking like cotton. I asked her if she saw Robert, and why there was a strange smell. She told me he was in the back, in the comics section, and that she was trying out a new scent. I thanked her and left, but not before suggesting she get a checkup to make sure her nose was still working.

Robert’s a comic nerd. If you asked him to name all the superheroes he knows, then you would have to grab a seat and some snacks, because it would not end anytime soon. But, I liked that about him. It was nice seeing him be so passionate about something. It was heartwarming, even. Honestly, I envy him. I envy having something you love so much, you dedicate all your time for it. Well, I did have something like that.

I didn’t want to call Robert, since obviously we were in the library, so I kept on walking. I didn’t know what we were going to do today. Probably read a few new comics. Play solitaire on the library’s computers. Talk about the unexplored majority of the ocean, the steep cliffs of Everest, and the humid jungles of the Amazon. Whatever it was, I just wanted it to be fun enough to forget about graduation. Before I graduated, I wanted to at least enjoy my time. My last couple of days….before I would stop dreaming.

I finally reached the comics section. Look, I’m not slow, alright? There’s just a ton of walls to squeeze by to get to the back. Anyway, after squirming my way through the last wall, I spotted Robert. I was about to call out to him, but something stopped me, rather someone stopped me. He was talking to a girl. It wasn’t a library volunteer. It wasn’t Robert’s sister or cousin. It wasn’t someone I knew. He was talking to her, and he was actually making her laugh. She smiled at whatever he was saying, and she was even…..tucking her hair behind her ear. There should only be two reactions I could have. The first would be excitement and happiness that Robert finally found a girl. The second would be slight anger that he found someone before I did, yet still happiness for him. I wasn’t feeling either of them. I felt sad, but I knew this would eventually happen. I just didn't expect it to happen so soon.

Of course, with the extensive amount of studying and work I had to commit to, I scarcely had time to socialize. Playing sports was out of the question, a supposed “waste of time and energy”......Yeah, that was a lie. My parents actually wanted me to try sports, but I’m not exactly a uh….athletic guy. After finding that out, my parents just made me study. Anyway, I had little opportunity to make friends, and the few friendships I managed to form eventually dissolved. Sam and Robert were the exceptions. We met during a shared study hall and instantly connected. They are probably my closest friends, though primarily because they are the only friends I have. But, it wasn’t always like that. I used to have a decent circle of friends. But our friendships just faded away. It wasn’t because we hurt one another, but simply because they moved on. They started dating girlfriends and became busy, and I couldn’t make an effort to revive our friendships because I was busy too. I had school and networking to focus on. No. That’s just an excuse. I wasn’t always busy. I had plenty of chances, but I never took them. Why? I felt betrayed. Despite our long-standing friendships, they all ended it for a girl? And, not only that, they couldn’t even reach out to me? They knew how much work I had to put in for school. Why couldn’t they make the first move? Why do I have to? Sorry, I sound selfish. But, am I wrong for feeling selfish? Weren’t they also selfish for choosing their girlfriends over me, and leaving me alone with nothing but school?

I left the library. I would eventually return, probably after Robert texting me that he managed to get a girl’s number. Then, we would sit around as he would tell me how he found the one, and blah blah blah. He would leave me. That’s what it really is. I was sort of angry at that. He seriously just couldn’t have waited until after we graduated? Just wait one more week? Whatever. It’s fine. I still have Sam.

I arrived at a crosswalk, unsure of where to go next. Perhaps the park? I could sit on a bench and wait until Robert texted me; it seemed as good a plan as any. I took out my lucky penny, hoping it might guide my decision. As the signal changed for me to cross, I walked while absentmindedly flipping the coin in my hand. Strangely, despite always catching it before, this time I lost control and it slipped from my fingers. Just like in a cliché movie scene, the penny began to roll away. Fortunately, it only rolled in a circle, so I bent down to pick it up. As I knelt down, I heard people shouting nearby. I turned to see what was happening and was horrified to find a 15-ton truck barreling straight toward me.