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            Life on Earth is amazing. The golden sphere above my head breathes its comforting heat onto my body. Cool spirits of wind fly past my cheeks. Curious emerald blades push themselves out of the moist dirt, gazing with me in wonder of the immensity of nature.

            That is what I remember of Earth. Before my ignorance, before I went astray. I lost myself to the indoors. Day and night were the same. My senses perceived nothing but the tack of a keyboard, the shouting through an earpiece. I hated leaving my games, despised the thought. I wanted to live the games that I spent so much time immersing myself in. And I could; I was old enough. It was so easy to find my supplies; not one person batted an eye. I couldn’t wait to live out through my body what I trained my fingers to do for so long.

            Life on Earth is grim. Slabs of grimy walls surround me, hold and choke me like Death itself, dealing rightful justice. Where is Earth, the one I remember from childhood? I have been abandoned, my games have lied to me. For there never was a prison in their world.

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