The boy in the clouds was happy. He spent his day lying on clouds and basking in the Sun’s warmth. Some days the little boy would even play tricks on the unsuspecting people on the ground, dumping water on their heads. Other days he enjoyed watching the people from his cloud, imagining what it was like to live on the ground. But no matter how much he laughed it could not take away the relentless pain he felt every day. It may have rained when he would play tricks, but it poured when the little boy would toss and turn in his sleep. There were nights when the rain would not stop. There were times when the little boy felt lonely. All he wanted was a companion, someone to talk to, to go on adventures with, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen. Everything began to build up inside the little boy. It was too much for a little boy to handle, and a storm erupted on the people below. The little boy leaned over the clouds and watched as they ran indoors. He was jealous of their freedom. They could run wherever they wanted to. The little boy wished to be free. And with a flash of lightning, he let go. The thunder roared as the little boy was finally free. The little boy in the clouds seemed happy, but no one could see how badly he was hurting.