Once upon a time, there was a little boy. He was a passionate, idealistic little boy. The little boy was full of hope and looked forward very much to the future. He led a happy life for a long time. He had a family that loved him. He had friends that were truly good friends. Everything was right in the kingdom where the little boy lived. The wise and benevolent rulers of the kingdom made sure the little boy was safe. Then one day he met a little girl. She was just as passionate and idealistic as he was. And he loved her. But they, for some reason or another, could never be together. Things just never seemed to work out right for them. Then one day the boy found out something horrible. The girl was a lie. She never really existed. She was just a part of his imagination. The little boy felt something he'd never known before.

A great sorrow welled up inside the boy. He had never known any pain like the pain he was feeling now. The hope that the boy had had died little. The little boy was confused. The little boy thought that since he had never felt this before that no one else had either. He thought that if he made other people feel sorrow too that his might go away. So the little boy made others feel his pain.

But this, of course, did not help the little boy. The little boy's pain continued to make his heart ache. When the little boy finally figured out that hurting others did not make him feel better, he asked his friends for help. He thought that his friends who had been there to help him before, whom he had been there to help before, would give him the help he needed. But the little boy made another terrible discovery. His friends were a lie. They never really existed. They were just part of his imagination. The little boy felt something he'd felt before. But it was much worse this time.

The little boy's hope died a little more on that day. The boy tried to cope with these terrible happenings. But he could not understand why the people he cared about always turned out to be imaginary. The little boy decided that maybe his family would understand. So he went to his family. But the little boy found out that his family was a lie. They never really existed. They were just a part of his imagination. The little boy felt an ever deepening sadness.

Hope died even more in the little boy. But the little boy refused to stop trying. He went back out into the world. And the little boy met more people. And each person the little boy met turned out to be lie. None of them ever really existed. All of them were just a part of his imagination.

The little boy felt that he should not be surprised with this. But each time he found out that someone he knew was imaginary it did shock him. And to this day every person the little boy meets, every person the little boy finds out is imaginary, he gets a little sadder and hope dies in him a little more.

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