The white padded wall was comfortable. Like a womb, except for the coldness that seemed to penetrate to it's cotton depths. It was cold to the touch, cold against the skin of the young man who leaned against it. He pressed himself against the wall, moaning a sick whimper. He sat with one hand on the wall, fingers tearing into the plastic lining, one hand tucked between his knees. He was tired of white walls, tired of being locked up.
Five years now, since he had turned 13. Locked away and forgotten, for his own good, they said. For the good of his mind, they said. He was trapped in an insanity that had started with the truth. He closed his eyes tightly, twisted emotions rising with the memories. He could still remember everything, it had stayed with him through all the drugs, all the counseling, all his families pleading and begging. He knew it had happened. The Goblin King… it was real.
"It was real!" He screamed at the small window in the steel door. Spit dripped from his chin, he didn't care to wipe it away. It didn't matter, no one was there to listen to him. No one was there to care.
"It was real." He whispered to himself, as if to confirm the truth. He pulled at the walls, tearing into the cotton innards, pulling the stuffing out in large handfuls. Suddenly in a mad rush, he leapt to his feet and beat on the door. "Let me out of here! I'm the prince… I'm the Goblin Prince!"
He beat on the door until his hands were bruised, the padding didn't matter. He suck to the ground, pushing his hands into his mouth. Why hadn't she just left him there? He was happy… Sarah…! He pounded on the door again, screaming his sister's name, demanding an answer from lips that weren't there. Soon he had no strength and crept to his resting place against the wall again.
"I wish… I…" But he couldn't remember the words. He could never remember the words. He squeezed his eyes shut again, leaning his head against the cold uncaring wall. "Jareth…"
He place his hand between his legs, wrapping his fingers around his shaft. He pulled roughly, causing pain with the pleasure. With every movement he mumbled out the Goblin King's name. He could remember those eyes… staring at him… He opened his own eyes, searching the shadows. Nothing. He came, leaving the sticky mess to cling to his loose clothing. It didn't matter. No one cared, it was what they expected.
"I'm a prince…" He muttered. "A prince…"