The boy leaned against the heavy chain, his mouth dry and his skin a ghastly shade of pale grey. His shirt was torn open and his pants were slipping down his thin waist. He was tired, exhausted, like he was running from something.
"What's your name?" I repeated myself but he didn't respond. He looked up from his shaggy bangs and scanned me up and down. In a quickness I was not expecting he wrapped his arms around me and pushed me against the metal fence behind us. I tried to push him away but he was a dead weight in my arms. "H- hey! get off me you psycho!" but he was ignoring me completely. Just busying himself with conjoining as much of our bodies as his weak body possibly could. I gritted my teeth and watched in confusion as he nuzzled his furrowed eyebrows into the jumble of my knitted scarf. "Who are you?" I whispered.
"I don't care," he growled back. The husky anger in his tone directed to himself more than to me. "Who I am is not important because," he paused and sharply drew a breath through his thin lips, "because... I'm not... I cannot be who I used to be... not anymore... not... at all." He spoke slowly, almost like his mind was slowing down from working to fast. A machine powering down before it turned off.
"You don't even know me," this time it was me speaking slower, quieter, loudness didn't seem right.
He smiled into my shoulder, a sad defeated thing. "I don't have to... I just... need you."