'Her feelings, she hides. Her dreams, she can't find. She's loosing her mind, she's fallen behind. She can't find her place, she's losing her faith. She's fallen from grace; she's all over the place.' – 'Nobody's Home.' – Avril Lavigne.

The streets were bleached, everything in grey scale, save the hazy, orange glow of the street lamps. I ran and ran; I don't know if I'll ever really stop, I've been running for over a year now. I don't know where to, I only know what from.

You grow accustomed to difficult situations, you manage. Some days are worse than others, some days you wonder who or what hates you so much they would force you to endure such hardships. But, difficult situations are all I've ever known…

It was cold, it was late November and the chill was setting in, winter making its presence known. My back was pressed against the bricks and I could feel the bumps and grooves in the wall, even through my coat. The gravel was damp and uninviting as I huddled in a forgotten corner of an alley hoping my pursuer would give up his search. I wanted to fade into the darkness, become one with it.

In all the nights I'd spent cold, uncomfortable, afraid and lonely, I'd always managed to go unnoticed. But, that night, someone had seen me…

He'd called out to me, he was drunk, stumbling and shouting profanities with a barely concealed aggression, he'd made a grab for me, ripping my shirt and I'd barely managed to make a run for it, with him not too far behind. He'd chased me for a good few blocks before I had found a suitable place to hide, so there I was, terrified, freezing in a filthy alley-way hiding from a foul excuse for a human being.

Surely home had been better than this?...No, it hadn't.

I tried to keep my breathing in check and still remain quiet. Every single noise was a possible threat.

That's when I'd heard it, footsteps. Someone was coming…

I curled in on myself further; I couldn't run anymore, I didn't have the strength. I knew that whoever this man was, he was going to hurt me, but there was nothing I could do about it. So, with a twisted acceptance, I sat and waited.

I couldn't bring myself to look up as the steps became closer, I didn't want to see this…

The even, unrelenting footfalls drew closer still, the ground crunching beneath them as they turned into the lane and my make-shift hiding place.

I heard a soft intake of breath…that hadn't been what I'd expected. My pursuer would've been shouting by now, and he would've stumbled around the corner.

It seemed I'd lost my touch, because I had managed to allow a second man to find me, as well…

Maybe this man would walk on, uninterested and too busy to stop. I hoped so…

But there was no sound of movement, just the shallow breaths as this stranger stared down at me.

I braved a glance up at him. His frame towered over me, his build slightly more than athletic. I couldn't distinguish anything else as the streetlamp behind him made him appear to be a shadow, a black figure that was staring down at me. And I didn't know what he wanted.

I put my arms down to my sides, raising my head to try and make out his expression and when I did he gasped gently.

And within the next second he was knelt beside me. In this new proximity I could see that he was no more than 2 or 3 years older than me, he was striking to look at, his cheekbones were perfection and his eyes burned a gorgeous chestnut as he glanced at me. His hair fell in and around his face, and was the colour of wheat in the fields.

Only a few mere seconds had passed since he'd lowered himself to my height and when he looked at me I could see a thousand questions swimming in his eyes.

"Are you alright?" He asked gently and the sound of it made my barely fightable tears spill over. That one question was more care than I'd been given in far too long.

He reached a hesitant hand out to swipe at one of my tears and my breath hitched.

Who was he? Where had he come from? Why was he here? But I asked the most important question.

"What do you want?" I blubbered.

"I want to know if you're alright…" he reminded me of his question, which I'd neglected to answer.

I should have lied, I should have let him walk on by, I should have shunned him, like I did with everyone and everything else, but I was tired of pretending and sick of running.

"No, I'm not…" I admitted, my voice weak with my confession, I wasn't okay…I couldn't remember the last time I was, and it hurt to think of that.

He stood up and I felt a near unbearable sense of loss, just when someone cared for me, I pushed them away. I knew it was probably easier though…

But he simply held a hand out for me.

"Come on, I'll take care of you…" and I believed him.

He hand enveloped mine and I truly believed he would fix me, or at the very least, he'd try…

He smiled gently down at me as he pulled me from my crouch.

"I'm Jasper, by the way…"

Should I continue? I think this is gonna be a lot darker than any of my previous writing.