Life offers no promises for those who experience it. Anyone could simply wake up one morning and their whole life could change in a single day. I’ve heard that the meaning of life is measured by a person’s choices, who they include in their life’s journey and that’s meant to make them who they are. A number of different factors could in some way give life a meaning however, I don’t see it as being that complicated. Why does life even need a meaning at all? Isn't just existing enough? Why should 'life' imply some sort of deeper purpose?

My logic is simple. I don’t waste time getting caught up in other people’s messes. I’d say the meaning of my life is to do only what is necessary, and to spend the rest of my time enjoying myself.

The happiest memories of my life so far have been spent locked up in my room, sitting in front of a computer screen during the earliest hours of the morning and mashing my keyboard. I would spend the rest of my life this way, if it were only up to me. However, my life never disappoints when it comes to other people always getting in the way…..

Thinking like this, it sounds quite selfish. However, I find no harm in being a little self-indulgent. After all, being a loner is my only strong suit. I couldn’t care less about what other people think, and I especially don’t care for the opinions of the elite nerds at this damn school….

I am distracted from my daydreaming, as the PE teacher calls on me.

I can’t believe it! I even put in the effort to hide in my hoodie and look unsuspicious at the back of the gymnasium….

PE Teacher: “Hey, Luke! You’re already failing this class, so my expectations of you aren’t very high to begin with, but could you please try participating just this once? It’s only dodgeball, I’m not asking much….. I mean come on Luke, you’re failing gym class! Gym class of all things!”

Luke: “Oh…. I’m slacking off today especially because it’s only dodgeball…. Why do you care if I fail or not? You’re only here to get paid, and all you have to do is babysit a bunch of rich teenagers…. Am I wrong? Besides, it's not like these elite nerds give a damn about PE class either.”

PE Teacher: “Ugh…. You watch that mouth of yours now, Luke Warm. I know you’ve already gotten into trouble with your other teachers this week, so don’t push your luck. Here, catch.”

I catch the rubber ball with both hands, though I nearly fumble it from my grasp. After a brief pause, I step forward from where I slouch against the gymnasium wall.

I roll my eyes and make a quiet whine in annoyance as I look at my classmates, the elite nerds, moving around me. Some of them yell at each other, but all are oblivious to my existence.

I give my best effort with a throw of the ball. Not to my surprise, a pathetic throw. I am reminded of the fact that I have never had any interest in physical sports. If only they had a video games class at Blackember Academy….

The ball spins in flight, travelling across to the other side of the gymnasium, before it soon loses momentum and heads down towards the floor. Despite this however, a black haired boy on the other team happens to stumble into the pathway of the ball.

The ball hits his shoulder, barely. In my mind I cringe at the unfortunate poor coordination that this boy possesses. At the same time though, I am pleased to find that I actually managed to hit someone.

Moments later, the black haired boy still stands in the exact same place as he was when the ball had hit him. He stands there frozen in place, while I squint my eyes and tighten my lips in confusion. The boy’s foggy stare tells me nothing about what he is thinking, or why he is disobeying the rules of dodgeball. How rude, I put in all that effort just for this?!

Luke: “Hey you there, with the shoulder! I clearly hit you there, so you need to go to the bench. You’re out!”

I jump in place with half enthusiasm, waving my arms to try and get the boy’s attention, all while dodging balls that are now being thrown at me. What’s this? I think I feel sweat begin to spill on my forehead.

I look into the boy’s eyes and I realize that his green gaze is looking past me, a bit to the left, at something behind me where the gymnasium doorway is.

I turn my head to the doorway. The tall, phantom-like figure stands with arms tightly crossed against a slender chest. Silvery hair frosts over his shoulders, his attire is inky and sleek. It's the school’s headmaster, Retribution Blackember.

The man is stern faced, and his name alone scares me. He governs the school, Blackember Academy, with the strictness only a truly heartless person could be capable of.

R. Blackember, as students call him, is so widely feared that all he must do on a daily basis is walk throughout the school’s hallways, utilizing his threatening glare to remind students that their parents are sacrificing outrageous amounts of money for them to attend this school. At least they are elite nerds, not like me, a presumed screw up in the making.

Most of the students at Blackember Academy are well behaved and care a lot about their grades and reputation. Unlike me, these nerds never relax or have fun, they only care about what other people think of them. However, as a student who actually tries to enjoy his time at school, I sure do get punished a lot for it.

The punishment I seem to only ever receive is hour long detention sentences. What a waste of time! I could do some serious gaming with all that time!

R. Blackember never does any of the disciplining in his school. He only enforces his strict and pointless rules, making life at the Academy miserable.

Just as I turn my head to face the black haired boy again, another attack of two dodgeballs, this time, are thrown at him. The boy stumbles back with the force. He scrunches his face up in pain, or maybe in embarrassment. He slouches, burying his hands within his pockets. His pitchy fringe sticks into his eyes with his head held low, as he trudges to the benches on the side of the gymnasium.

Choosing to not think any further about this odd and clumsy boy or Retribution Blackember, I grab another ball as it rolls past me. Evaluating my classmates on the other side of the gymnasium, I try to locate my next target. I figure I might as well give dodgeball another shot….

I raise my arm preparing for the throw. The rubber dodgeball, coated with the dirt and sweat from the countless hands of upper class high schoolers, built up over the years. This time it shoots out of my hand like a heavy cannonball. My shot may not have been precise, but it was powerful. Powerful enough that while travelling through the air like a shiny, red meteor, the dodgeball catches fire. Wait, what?!

It really is on fire! The dodgeball blazes with an orange flame, followed by a trail of black smoke, all while it is still airborne. Everyone in the gymnasium stops whatever they are doing and stares in awe at the flaming dodgeball. Everyone, except for one. By an unfortunate mix of fate and poor chance, the PE teacher, who I always thought was unfit to educate others on the topic of physical fitness, stands bending over tying his shoelace. Standing right in line with the flaming dodgeball, the fire-sphere makes way straight towards my PE teacher.