There once was a boy named Kaleb Davis. Well, there still is. But this boy wasn't -isn't- like other boys. He's got a whole different planet under his feet, and a differently lit night sky above his head. This is his story. The story that has no end. The story that's still going on today.
The Lightly Train
The room was dark, small, and quiet. But that's how Kaleb Davis of Valtar Road liked it. The only thing to be heard was the faint sound of raindrops hitting the tiny window in his room, which happened to be the attic. This hightest room in the medium sized house. Which meant his room held the highest window, so the rain was much more loud. But not today. Today, of all the days it rained on Valtar Road, the rain was quiet. Which would've struck Kaleb as unusual had he been awake to see it. Or maybe if he'd even been in his bedroom. Or even in the house. But he wasn't. Kaleb Davis wasn't even on Valtar Road anymore. And so far, only one person knew why. Sadly, it wasn't either of his parents. His mother wept in his father's arms by the kitchen table. He held her close for comfort, but there's not much to be comfortable about when your thirteen year old son is missing. The sound of rain was still audible, but there was a new sound now. Something exciting? "I can't find him anywhere!" Kaleb's sister Ruby said as she burst through the front door in her rain jacket. Definitely not exciting, no. His mother looked up from her husband's chest and at her daughter. She got up and hugged Ruby, sobbing. Ruby didn't look to estatic. "Hey... at least we know we're not freaking out over something ridiculous, like him turning out to be on the back porch or something." She said. Her mother looked up to her face. "Oh, have you checked there?" She asked her daughter. "Yup. Not there." Her mother went back to the table to shed a few more tears. Ruby sat down in the chair next to her mother and sat down her yellow hat, which was wet from the rain. It lay on the small, circular brown table as suddenly, everything went silence. Not slowly, but all at once. As if someone had muted a televison. There was no sound. If there were to be something unmissable, something you just had to hear, it would've, at least, been your own breath. But not even that sound played through the room. Kaleb's father rose from the table and walked toward the window where a figure of a girl running was visable. She was running toward the house. He opened the door for her. She stopped running and came straight into the house. She was soaking wet and out of breath. She was hunched over, hands on her knees as she gasped for air. Ruby got the strange girl a glass of water. She took it quickly from Ruby's hands and chugged it as fast as it seemed she could. "Are you okay? Can you breathe?" The mother, Annie, asked. The girl held her right hand up into the air, moving it around a few times, then letting it drop. "Breathe? Oh, no, I wasn't trying to breathe. I was just thirsty." She said, setting the glass down with her left hand. "Thirsty?" Ruby asked. "What's your name?" The father, Mark, had also asked. "Never mind that! Kaleb, your son, I know where he is." She said.