Most stories are based on fiction, most on true stories, others that are mixed up in truth and fable, that sometimes it's hard to tell which from which. But there's one story that stands out from all stories.

Now, before you continue reading this, picture this inside your head.

You're a lonely child. You have no friends, you have no parents, you've been locked up for most of your life, and you never been anywhere near to nothing on what's out there beside some books and a few recorders that are the only source to knowledge. Now, image a deep, deep, longing inside you.

Something that nags at the back of your brain each day for something new and different. Something that you would trade anything just to get it. Something that would imply you to do something that you never thought you would do in your life and risk it.

This just happened to happen to a certain young lonely child, who did just that. Now then, the story begins high…high, high, high, HIGH up in the sky. High out of your reach, and beyond your wildest dreams.

High up in the sky, far into the clouds, beyond the mountains reach, and safe from the ruins of the world bellow, a peaceful, quiet, tranquil city flies above the world. The days were always sunny, and the view of the night was always clear. Streets were safe to play in for the children, and life was easy going. Few ever had to worry, and many could enjoy their life to the fullest.

Everything looked so peaceful down there. So…why was he always stuck in here, and not down there?

It was boring being stuck in the same place all the time. He did everything he could in a place like this, yet he wanted more! As far back as he could even remember he was confined in this place, with nothing to do except draw, or explore, listen to a tape recorder, or even let his imagination take over to amuse himself for a little bit before realization came back and fling him into boredom again. It was a little bit fun when he was just a tad bit younger, but after two whole years of being stuck in the same place with the same things to do, it finally caught up to him that this place felt like…what was the word?

Trap? Unable to escape? He knew there was a word for this, it was just unable to come to him. Just like how he will never be able to go to the city. And for that…it made him feel lonely inside.

Others were allowed to go out and about down there, but he was confined up here, away from all the different things down there. Away from something different.

He sighed, turning away from the window and looked around his 'home'. It was much, yet it wasn't bad either. The walls were covered in dark blue wallpaper that complemented the lighter blue on the floor, with tall empty bookshelves in the wall, few occupied by tape recorder here and there. There was a doorway on either side of the room. Left was the bedroom, right was the kitchen. But next to the left doorway was something that he always pondered on. It wasn't a doorway, but something deep inside him, some itty-bitty concuss, somewhere in the back of his head, something told him that behind there…was freedom.

0.o.0.o.0

Most of the day went by rather slowly, seeming for hours before it was time for lunch.

The kitchen wasn't very much like a kitchen, but all the food was stored here, so it was like a kitchen. After climbing the last step, he went directly for the small frigid that was placed in a corner and opened it. Not much was inside, only bottles that contained some sort of soup that had no real taste to it.

It was all that he ate, besides bread. And that was all that was stocked in the cabinets. Taking a bottle out and closing the frigid, he over to the other end of the room. A small counter, stacked with cups and plates on top, stood there.

Taking a small cup, he unscrewed the lid and pored the inside contents into the cup. Placing the now empty bottle aside, he proceeded to stare at the cup. It was wooden, finely crafted and smoothed so no splinters would stick out and prick someone. It was special, but more pacifically, maybe he was just content at starring at it. It went on for a few moments, till his eyes spotted something at the edge of the cup. Reaching out and grasping the top, he spun it around till he got the full view of the image and stare at it.

It was a creature, one that had an impression of a robot, yet a monster at the same time. It barely looked like it had any flesh, but the fur and pointed ears that jotted out from behind that mask it wore around its head said otherwise. Three huge curved claws were on each arm and feet, metal bindings were attached to its legs and arms, blots and screws were placed here and there on the beast, long lose wires stuck out from the tip of its tail, and it eyes could hold the impression to kill without regret or remorse. It was fine detailed, everything down to the last curve. Underneath the image were words that were carved long into the wood along with the carving.

DexDorugamon

He continued to stare at it till his hunger got the best of him. Sighing, he gulped down the tasteless liquid, having DexDorugamon's image play in his mind. He wondered, just a bit, if this creature was ever real.

0.o.0.o.0

The rest of the day went by, nothing new, nothing to do, just the same every day. When the sky had started to turn dark, he was more than happy to be heading to bed than staying up than ever.

His room didn't have much to it. It didn't have windows, there was only a bed and a small stool with a lamp post on top beside it. On one side of the room was a bathroom, complete with a toilet and bathtub and sink. It was alright. The bed sheets were comfy, and the lamp gave off a good amount of light for him to read any books he wanted to catch up on.

Climbing up after washing up, he took one look at a certain wall. Taped or glued on were pictures that he drew himself, some depicting the places his books or the record player had mentioned. Africa, Asia, France, China, and even London. Instantly, he felt a twang of pain his heart. Oh, how he just longed to go there. To go to any place he drew on the wall. To see the sights for himself and taste the foods. To dance and be out and about with no walls closing him in. To talk with someone.

…With anyone.

…Just, one little talk with someone.

…Just…one tiny…word.

…With…someone…