Created by EA Sports, FIFA 13 is a football (soccer) game that was released in 2012. 
       FIFA 13 is inconvenient for players that can't play online in a few ways. The only thing particularly wrong with it is that the servers are unstable from time to time. That's just the way EA does things. the statistics of the players are fairly accurate, and Christiano Ronaldo is as boss as ever. The brand new freestyle skills give the game a fantastic edge to it, and makes all of the gameplay smooth in general. All in all, the game has a dark side, but 

           I've asked myself a few questions: Why do bad things happen to good people? Because they're inevitable? Because the world is full of hate and confusion? I ponder these things over and over in my mind in these days where everyone has disappeared. I'll fill you in on the past couple of days:
 The first day of the "occurrence", I decided to drive around town to see if there was any activity. Not a single soul besides my own was at the town square. The square was a center of bustling activity, and there's only that once in a very long while are there not car driving by and parents and their children playing in the fountain. This time, there wasn't a single car driving by, no parents to nostalgically gaze upon their growing children, no one working at the cafes to serve businessmen and women on their lunch breaks; No one. 
             The second day, I went to work at the office, and no one was there. I had to break in through the windows to get in. I grabbed my work laptop and went back home, where I stayed for the rest of the day.
              The third day, I went to go get groceries. All of the super markets were empty, void of any consumers. Most of the food items were on the shelves, and all of the jewelry items were in their glass cases. I grabbed what I needed and then some. I then contemplated if I needed something to protect myself. I grabbed a few rifles, and shotgun or two, and an AR-15 assault rifle just to be sure. I made a few trips back and forth to the car delivering ammunition of all calibers. I even grabbed a few gaming systems and games for the laughs. I went back home to unload everything. I got on the roof of my apartment on the second floor to set up a sort of roof top pill box for me to camp out on in case zombies ended up rising from the dead or something crazy like that. 
            Days 4-6 I continued looking for others that might still be here. I got no hint as to where they might have gone.
            Today, I found something strange. I was taking a careful stroll through the square, my AR-15 slung around my shoulder, and I heard a peculiar crunching sound. I had been stepping on leaves and emptied chip bags all day, but this was interesting. I looked down, and I saw a foot long line of black powder. I put some into my palm and wafted the scent, and found it was gun powder. I could've assumed that it was mine, but I hadn't walked through the square with a gun before. I was always roaming the outskirts of the city, and I hadn't gone to the square since the first day. That may have just been coincidence, but I'm still going to keep my eyes open.  
                  

A great memory of mine occurred in a dream of mine. The dream began in a beautiful grassy valley, much like those in New Zealand. I was in a line of other teenagers much like me. They seemed to be average people, but they all had more athletic attire. I heard a gunshot, and everyone took off into a sprint. I started with them, and I realized I was running at inhuman speed, as were the others. I started running closer to a boy with shaggy black hair and asked him,"Where are we going?!" He replied,"You'll find out! Just be ready to jump!" This confused me beyond oblivion. There were no chasms, streams, or any obstacles to be jumped over. The time came and he signaled me to jump. I did as the others did, and, rather than gravity enacting on us, we took flight. In the middle of flight, I was splashed with what seemed to be water. I turned around to see how that had happened, and one of the 'flyers' was plummeting down back towards the valley. I looked to the ground and there were artillery pieces strategically placed in the fields. "Then where did the water come from?" I asked myself. I hear an artillery piece fire, but all I see being fired out of is is a light blue ball. The ball hits one of the flyers, and she curls into a ball to prepare for her decent. I told myself,"Water balloons. Just genius." Before I realize it, I'm getting closer to the ground by the second, while eventually landing on my feet and sprinting towards a finish line. I may have lost that  dreamt race, but the rush of having water balloons hurled at you while in flight is the most exhilirating feeling I've ever had. It was definitely a great memory.

            Imagine this: You wake up, just like any normal day; You eat your bowl of cereal and get dressed out of your pajamas into your work uniform. You walk outside and think to yourself,"No traffic. Strange." You hop into your car and head to work. You drive to the town square, the center of traffic build up; No one there.This is my story, and this is how I became a Lone Wolf.

“Andros!” a voice exclaimed,”behind us!” A gleaming bolt of light leapt across the “Black Desert”, as it had come to be called. The sand at night seemed to be pitch black, creating the illusion that the victim was walking on emptiness. This was bad, however, because no one could see the hills, creating a disorienting experience, eventually driving the victim to madness. These men, however, had the resolve of seasoned veterans. These men were the soldiers of Angelus VII, the best of the best.

Andros dropped to his right knee, raised his bow and spun behind him to observe his prey. The black silhouettes that moved behind the invisible hills raised their weapons and unleashed a wave of white arrows towards the soldiers

The exchange between the unknown enemy and the soldiers was a glorious one; The mixture of the colors of the bolts of light could’ve even been seen as a work of art.

Without any warning, the unknown’s fire stopped. Five explosions, ten feet wide, stretched across the hill opposite to the soldiers, muffling the pained screams of the enemy. The soldiers looked across the black dunes, and found no opposition. Andros gave the order to advance, and the whole unit moved in to investigate.

The sun was beginning to rise, and the sand was becoming the tan color it had always been again. The soldiers spoke amongst each other about what could possibly have saved them. Veteran Sergeant Levicus peered over the edge of the hill. His eyes widened, his shoulders seemed to shrug down, and his grey hair seemed to become even more grey.

“We’re dead. Done for.” he whispered to himself. Even to himself, the words seemed cold and self-deprecating. Without any more hesitation, he took off, leaving his comrades behind him, shouting his warning,”Death is upon us!”

Andros’ mind flooded with curiosity at the thought of Levicus’ insanity, he peered over the edge of the hill, only to meet a white light.

Andros woke up in complete serenity and peace.

“It’s incredibly calm.” he thought to himself. A soft buzzing filled his ears, as well as an occasional light beeping noise. The clanking of metal was the most audible of all.

He found himself unable to sit up, bound by hard, leathery straps. His vision cleared, and he lifted his head up. His was filled with horror, lashing about like a fly stuck in a spider web. Andros’ chest cavity had been opened, revealing his heart and lungs, as well as the rest of his internal organs.

Two shadowy figures rushed to his side, binding his arms a second time. “We have no choice; Put him down.” the raspy voice ordered to the other figure. Andros felt a sharp pinch in his arm and began to fall into a deep sleep…...forever.

Just last weekend, I've moved into a house in Bentonville. I've been a part of Pea Ridge ever since I got expelled from Mary Mae Jones Elementary for reasons confidential. I came to Pea Ridge in first grade, and, being the social butterfly that I am, made friends immediately. I didn't know how to react to a new town, a new school, and new people. I was immediately overcome with joy as I found my new childhood friends. Little did I understand that I wouldn't have them as my best friends for much longer. In second grade, I met my favorite teacher at the time, Mrs. Starnes. I was a trouble maker, however. Something in me had compelled me to show more violent behavior, and I made extremely frequent trips to the principal's office. And with that, spankings from my mother were frequent as well. In third grade, I made best friends with my friend Tyler. Later that year, I met a guy (who remains my best friend today) named Johnathon. In fourth grade, I puked in the hallway with everyone watching. That's about it. In fifth grade, I met my favorite teacher ever, Mr. Johnson. His stories were things that I could listen to over and over again. His humor, his personality, his teaching ability, and his kindness were qualities that made him one of my role models.
In sixth grade, I got braces and started becoming interested in dating (too soon, I know) and website coding. I did none of those things except getting braces. In seventh grade, my grades hit rock bottom and school and a social life became difficult to coincide. Eighth grade, I became a bit more athletic, and I was making a few more enemies than friends. Last year, I contemplated suicide before meeting the most amazing girl I've ever met. My grades sucked then, too. This year, I've lost the girl of my dreams, but my grades have impressively held up, I've gained a wonderful father and loving (ahem) siblings, and a mom that's the happiest she's ever been. Now I can come home to a family instead of my lonely self. Life's only going uphill from here.