John Silver was born in an upper middle class household in a typical Maryland suburb, a neighborhood he thought was particularly special at the time. John's mother was searching outside the preschool doors for her son to emerge from the sea of bobbing heads, all about three feet from the ground. She began to worry when she couldn't spot her son; he was usually one of the first out. Right as she was about to talk to the teacher, she spotted him at the back of the line.

“There's my little Silver!” his mother exclaimed while bringing him into her arms. “How was school today?” They turned around and began to walk back to their car.

“It was good!” Silver yelled. “We learned about careers today! Mrs. Wilson told us that we should pick one that we love to do since we have to do it for a loooong time. Kevin—”

“Kevin Davis?” his mother interrupted.

“Yep! He said he wants to be a baseball player… like that's going to happen. But Mrs. Wilson said to pick one we want to do, and I don't know what I want to do yet.”

“Well, you have a long time to decide. As long as you're successful, I would be happy.”

At 19, Silver was studying at the University of Pennsylvania on track to get into a prestigious medical school, to the joy of his parents. Silver was trudging through the droplets that pelted his long black trench coat, on his way home from a long day of labs, when he decided to get a cup of coffee. He saw a familiar face through the window, but he couldn't quite make out any distinguishing features. He made his way to the line, not thinking much of it.

“Hey, is that you, John?” In school, only one boy would ever call him by that name.

“Never thought I'd see you here, Kevin,” Silver remarked. Silver's revulsion seeped from the wrinkles in between his eyebrows. “How's baseball coming along for you?”

“Great, actually. I already have some agents coming up to me about going pro. Although I'd like to get in a few more years of college, since I basically have a free ride.” It was so unfair: Kevin never worked a day in his life to get real success, he just wanted to play games for a living, never thinking about any bigger meaning. And it was working. “Speaking of which, how's your mom? Is she still playing on her team?” The breath left Silver's body in an instant.

“Hey, I'm so sorry,” Silver interjected. “I have to go right now, I just realized I forgot something really important.” His mother was meant to call him every Wednesday to make sure he was alright; it was Thursday. Silver was terrified of living completely alone for the first time and needed a base. He sprinted out of the cafe to his dorm, where he found a letter by the door.

The funeral was only a week later. To most, the deaths of Silver's parents were nothing special, killed in an accident on their way to dinner. Luckily for them, they would barely get to register the truck that demolished their car's left side before they lost consciousness. Friends and family would come to their graves, stare, and walk away, leaving the casket to someone who they thought would care more.

But to Silver, his parents were everything. Quite literally—they were fully paying for his future. Due to miraculous events, the small fortunes that Silver's parents acquired throughout their lives were completely lost. It was as if they had never even lived at all.

Silver took a taxi back to his dorm. His roommate was sitting on his bed, studying from one of the thousand page textbooks that he would open every single day.

“Sorry man, I heard the news,” his roommate mumbled, without lifting his head from the page. Silver sat down at his own bed. “Wait, guess what Dr. Waldron said while you were gone!”

“Hey, not right now, alright?” Silver pleaded. “You know, on top of all of this, I have no idea how I'm gonna pay for anything next year.” He sulked further into the comfort of his sheets.

“Hold on, my girlfriend just quit her job at that lab. That might give you enough money to at least find a place.” The roommate still refused to raise his head from his reading. But maybe, Silver thought, this was the opportunity he needed to find some success—perhaps in a different spot than his parents thought, but in a spot where they would be proud.

Silver miraculously got the job, and without any other real aspirations, continued to rise up the ranks. However, he was forced out when he was 76 years old. On that day, Silver walked home from the Clinic on the very same streets he walked when he learned of his parents' death.

He had told his younger coworkers that day about how much had changed since he had attended the University. The students all seemed busier and more lively. There were more shops on the streets and stores in the buildings. The streets and sidewalks were brighter and smoother. But walking down the streets, he realized he had been walking in place for fifty years.

Silver unlocked his door, which only connected to one hinge, so he had to shift the door around to open it every day. The wine cabinet was empty yet again, so, feeling too desolate to buy more, he crashed on his last comfortable chair with an empty glass in his hand.

Silver rested for hours before he realized something felt different. What was he doing? His parents wouldn't have wanted this. Silver walked out of the apartment building and into the University campus. There was a counselor that offered free services to students and alumni who Silver had heard about from his younger colleagues. He entered the counseling office and approached the desk at the back of the room. The lady behind the desk was watching the news many had waited for: Kevin Davis had finally entered the National Baseball Hall of Fame.

Before he knew it, Silver was in a tight room with a woman about his age. She gave the impression that she had meandered around the truth her whole life and she was done with it.

“Hello,” the woman said welcomingly. “I would like to start off by asking you to tell me a bit about your life, so I get to know you a bit better.”

“Yes, I was a pretty bright high school student, if I may so, who was accepted into this University about fifty years ago or so. My parents died in an automobile accident a few months into my first year, and I left as I wasn't able to afford the tuition. I began working at the Rellfield Clinic, and I wasn't sure what I was supposed to go then, so that's where I worked until today.”

“Are you proud of what you've done?”

“Well, I think if my parents were still here, they would be proud I stuck with medicine. Although I'm not exactly sure what they would have wanted if I couldn't afford a degree.”

“Are you proud?” John paused and thought about the question for a few minutes.

“I was just trying to do what I was supposed to do.” The woman slumped and stared, implying that he should speak some more. “What was I supposed to do?” The woman sighed.

“If you want an answer, there isn't anything special,” she replied. “There isn't a reason why you're in this universe, you just are. The best you can do is to do what makes you happy.”

After a little more discussion, John thanked the woman and left to go to his house. He laid on his bed, with the painful knowledge that he lived waiting for a purpose that didn't exist.