Thread: Who? Church/Moon

the young boy, almost a man, looked up when h saw two feet in front of his face. the man in front of him was astonishingly handsome, which was certainly something to note. his eyes where such a pretty green and he didn't whisper and walk away as so many did. was this man not afraid? he was sure that people where supposed to be afraid of him, even if he couldn't recall why. he looked up at the person- Johnathon, what a nice name- blinking dumbly in the half light of the park. he wondered if he should speak back? would that be okay? did he even know his name? maybe all people where called Johnathon? no that didn't seam right. he shook his head when he was asked if he was hurt. he didn't think so. his entire body ached a bit, but he didn't think he was hurt. he wasn't sure though, how did one know when they where hurt? hungry, yes he was that, his belly was growling, clawing at him. he flinched back when the jacket was wrapped around him and he blinked at the man and pulled the jacket a little closer, it was warm and smelled nice. was it his to keep? he hoped so, he liked the Jacket. it wasn't hard to coax him out of the pipe. this was the first person that had ever been nice to him, that he could recall. though, he had a feeling this was the first person who had been nice to him, ever. it was a bit harder to get him to strip down, and even harder to get him in the shower. once there though, as the blood and grime started to wash away Johnathon could see that the lean, young body was covered in cuts and bruises. none of them seamed to be infected but most of them looked to be weeks, even months old. there where scars covering his body, thick long lines across his back and butt as if someone had taken a whip or a sharp belt to him. there where knife marks all across his chest and twin, jagged marks ran up each arm following the line of his veins. like he had tried to rip his own arms open with a piece of metal. it was obviously a suicide attempt, though they where a good few years old. he was entirely too thin as well. three days in the streets wouldn't lend credence to how thin he was. no, this boy, whoever he was, had been heavily abused. he leaned into the hot water with a sigh, letting the water warm him to his core and carefully scrubbed himself clean, careful where the bruises and cuts where. none of the wounds looked dangerous, though the gash on his forehead looked like it needed a few stitches. it wasn't bleeding at least and the edges where already starting to crust over in a scab. it was the newest injury from the looks of things, that and the huge black bruise on the side of his face. Johnathon? the boy asked, stepping out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his slender hips. his head was tilted at the other, bright blue orbs clear and curious. You know me? the boy asked, curious, hopeful. why else would someone approach him when no one else would? his nose quivered at the scent of the food and looked at the Pancakes, his stomach growling loudly again, making him feel as if a tiger was clawing at his stomach from the inside. he sat down, too weak to keep standing when he was so hungry and stared, fixated on the food to the exclusion of everything else. he was so hungry.