The world asked. They asked where'd he gone. Some say outer space, others say he never existed, only a few said he'd left without a trace.

But the truth is, he always felt alone. He had a family, but never felt at home. Because he knew that he could be a dog and they'd never throw a bone. He blamed himself for there actions and he just wanted his sins atoned.

So one early morning he packed his things in that black bookbag and the only thing people could say when he left was that he look glad. And after that first step he never looked back.

Friends hate it because he didn't have anything left to say. His family full of riches finally realized that attention is the one thing they couldn't pay. As hurt as they are, they knew he was happier this way.

Now when they ask about him, they reply to look up at the sky. If you look close enough you can see a very thin line. Where he writes how he just needed time and that everything was fine.

He's there now crossing his T's and dotting his I's as he prepares to write out his final goodbyes.