Mikey was talking about a show he saw on The Nation Geographic Channel about really big animals. Or something. He liked to talk, and unfortunately for me, he didn’t have many options when it came to people to talk to. It’s night time, and we’re walking at the front of our little ‘pack’. A group whose occupants changed regularly – mostly guys, but the occasional girl. They weren’t my friends, and they certainly weren’t Mikey’s, but they were people, and they were there, and sometimes they were useful. I don’t think any of them really considered Mikey to be part of the ‘pack’, but that was fair – Mikey didn’t consider them to be part of his reality.

One way or another, it had all started with Mikey. I know at least that my life made a lot more sense before he turned up, about two years before this night. He was even scrawnier then, at twelve. I’d been confused, when he sat down next to me on his first day at the school we both still attend. He was two years younger than me, and I wasn’t exactly known for being particularly social. I didn’t even look social. He just kept talking, though. I can’t remember what about – I don’t knew at the time, either, I was so confused by his mere presence. His presence was really just the tip of the iceberg, I soon learnt. He wouldn’t so much as acknowledge anyone but me, and I wasn’t even paying him much attention. Some people were pretty rude to him, others friendly, but he wouldn’t even look at them. Not even the slightest twitch of a response. It was… vaguely creepy.

Now, Mikey was talking about whales. Fair enough – they’re pretty much at the top of the ‘big animals’ list. He was gesturing with his arms, as he often did, spreading them far apart in some sort of vague expression of ‘really big’, when the back of his hand made contact with another guy’s face.

“Watch it, fag,” was the oh-so-original response of the guy in question.

I couldn’t be bothered even responding to that. Mikey frowned vaguely at roughly the point his hand had come into contact with, but shrugged it off after a moment and kept walking. How he could deny the existence of people who he came into physical contact with was beyond me. He’d come into physical contact with people a lot, too, before I’d ‘adopted’ him, and made it very clear to others that he wasn’t to. That’s just one reason I don’t believe he truly believes other people don’t exist.

So, as I was saying, one way or another, it all started with Mikey. Either that first day I met him, or tonight, when I met someone else.

We’d just arrived at our destination. It was our usual nighttime hangout, an amphitheatre in a large park, sometimes used during the day for small, public performances, but mostly as a shaded place to sit and eat or smoke. By night, though, it was ours, and everyone knew it. That’s why I was surprised to see a boy in his early teens, who I’d never seen before, sitting on a seat about half way up the tier upon our arrival. Now, I knew everyone who was even casually connected to our little pack. I spent a lot of time not at home, either hanging out like tonight, or sleeping on someone else’s couch. This boy, I’d never seen before. I wouldn’t forget a boy who looked like that.

He looked to be about Mikey’s age. Brown curls which looked like they were attempting to take over his head and, when he looked up, big dark eyes. I couldn’t tell what colour they were from this distance, in the dark, but I recognized the lost look in them easily enough. There was blood on his shirt.

I had no intention of acting, though. He was cute, sure, but I’ll be damned if ‘cute’ got you anywhere with me. I’d seen plenty of kids in trouble, and you couldn’t help them all. I’d long since given up helping any of them. Only perverts and suckers let ‘cute’ influence them. So I was about to walk on by, sit a distance away from him, ignore him, and wait for him to get uncomfortable with the presence of the pack and leave. I would have done just that, if it hadn’t been for Mikey.

Mikey had stopped, and he was staring at that boy.

Author’s comments: Thanks be to Petra for being my mentor, and simultaneously the devil and the angel on my shoulder. Thanks for being my inspiration and encouragement, and helping me along the way with this thing.

This story was inspired by a dream of mine, featuring a run away and the boys who helped him. The physical appearances of three of the characters are taken directly from this dream. More on that later.