In the darkness, there was a loud, high pitched noise coming to the boy. It started faint, but it grew louder to one point, but then faded away just as fast as it came into his ears. He heard this noise several times, and it faded away into the abyss. The boy could now hear more noise: honks, click clacks, chatter, and faint ringing. The darkness started to brighten, and then the boy realized it was his vision coming back to him. His eyesight was still faint, but he could see colors, images. He was leaning on a concrete wall, with a brick door in front of him. It took him awhile, but he realized he was not leaning on a concrete wall, but the concrete ground. He turned his body to only have his vision blinded by an orange brightness, which he then recognized the glare was the sun his eyes were staring at.
He tried to get up, but his muscles would not respond to his thoughts. All he could do is groan, but he was able to get on one knee. Once he was on his feet, he could feel a terrible weight hanging over him, making him weak in his knees. He assumed it was the damp, dirty blanket that was wrapped around him. He sniffed the air, and it smelled crisp and clean, like a fresh spring morning. He also smelled something ghastly, reeking of dirt and body odor. He looked down to the source of the smell. Sadly it was his clothes. He wore a sweatshirt and sweatpants that were both torn and filthy. He didn't know where he was, how he got there, or even what the day or year it was. All he knew was that he was in an alleyway of a busy urban city. He needed help, rest, and food. Slowly but surely he walked to the sidewalk. He was so weak he could only crouch while walking, reaching out to people for help. Many of them scattered before he could touch them, some of them kept on walking, looking straight ahead; and most would stare at him as if he was insane.
He tried his best to say "Help me" but the words would not come out of his mouth. He took baby steps, trying his best to get aid from anyone or get to a place where he can be safe. He stumbled onto something and caught himself by a metal pole. His head started to feel woozy, making it harder and harder to stand on his own two feet. He turned his head to catch a glimpse of himself in a window, and he could understand why people were looking at him as if he was a crazy man. His short hair was, tasseled in all different directions; his face was smothered in grime and dust. His face had boyish features which were molding into a appearance of a young man. His dark green eyes looked intense, showing panic and fear of an unknown threat. He tried to remember when it was the last time he actually saw his own reflection, but he couldn't. He couldn't even remember the first letter of his first name.
It didn't matter now, for he was more concerned on the matter of his life rather than his looks. His vision started to become blurry, and the voices were slowly withering away. He continued to walk the best he could, and not even taking three steps he bumped into a moving figure.
"Hey! Watch where you're going!" said the figure, its voice feminine, sounding aggravated. He looked over to the figure, said with the best of his ability "Please, help me…"
The world started to spin around him; he could barely keep his balance. Everything was moving more quickly than it was before
"Hey, are you okay sir?" said the figure, which sounded more sincere and soft, like the sound he had heard once before, but didn't remember where
His knees began to buckle, and he fell to the ground, where all he could do is groan.
"Sir!" yelled the figure, the voice now with panic. She stood over the boy, and the boy's vision was clearer, and could see the figure perfectly. It was a girl and a beautiful one to add to that. She was around the boy's age, but the boy only noticed her troubled brown eyes behind her rectangular black spectacles.
"Hang on, we'll get you help! Aunt Helen, get over here, this boy needs help!"
He can see people crowding near him, but he could barely see them for his vision began to dim again, the voices becoming softer. "Please… Help me… don't let them find me," was what the boy said on instinct, even though he himself didn't even know what he referred to as 'them'.
"Don't let who find you? Sir, Sir, Sir!" was the last words he heard from the girl, as he fell into a black abyss once again, away from the world.