There is this kid, his name is David. He is sixteen years old and a Sophomore student at Central High School. He had big dreams of becoming a celebrated artist. He revelled in the images that danced in his head end ritual of putting them to medium. His imagination was his hang out. A refuge.
One day that changed. And if you asked him, he wouldn't really be able to tell you what day exactly. Perhaps it was the day that big kid in the hall picked David up and stuffed him in the garbage can for the 5th time of the day. Maybe it was the day his Mom decided she didn't want to be a Mom anymore and took off. Maybe it was the day his dog died. Maybe it was all those days he asked for help from his teachers, but they were too busy to help. Whatever day it was, the change DID happen. His hang out and his refuge became broken and useless. He decided to build a new one. And he built it with needles and glass pipes.
David was lost. He needed to be found. He needed a guide to come and show him the way out of this place. It used to be, there were guides. They were all around and needed but to be called and they would come to render assistance. That was before they were taken away by the overlords. The overlords had decided they could no longer afford to have them around. They were deemed unnecessary and not worth the treasure. And that those lost children would manage somehow.
As it turned out, they were right. Those children who came from families of great wealth and status were able to return to safety. But children, like young David, who but had a Father who was a hard worker yet poor, children like David were left to drift in the wind.
And so it was, a generation was cast into the fury of the unseen unknown.
