The mist swirled around the dark December night. The faint streetlight flickered.

As the mist slowly cleared, a figure came into view.

A boy, around fifteen, in a black jacket, staring down into the floor. He leaned against the lamppost.

In the distance, a car rumbled lowly. 'I am hungry,' its engines seemed to say.

The boy paid no attention. In his world there was only him. Nothing else. No external object. No nothing. As he thought, a memory of his sister came into his head. What was her name? He-- he couldn't quite remember. He hadn't been able to remember anything in a long time.

What was HIS name?

No one knew.

How long had he been standing there, leaning against the lamppost, begging the mist to swallow him up, end this hopeless life of his for him, to give him something to look forward to in his miserable life? How had he ended up like this?

He shrank down a little. His insides were screaming at him to stop this torture he was implementing on himself, and  he repeatedly told them, 'No. I shall not eat. I shall not drink, lie down, or anything that raises the chances of my surviving. And when that glorious day finally comes, I shall be glad,' But they insisted, and he felt that he was in a constant battle with his own body.

The ground beneath his feet was moist. He felt his mouth parch up when he glanced at the puddles of rainwater on the floor. He felt sick.

Gazing at the horizon of the seemingly endless road that stretched out infinitely ahead of him, he noticed a small, black car, slowly making its way toward him. It let out a slow grumbling sound, reminding the boy of his hunger. As if on cue, his stomach growled.

Groaning, he shut his eyes, resting his head against the lamppost. This one piece of metal seemed to be the only thing he could get support from, his only hope.

The rumbling became louder. 

Louder.

He looked up.

It was there, right up against his face. The front of the car leaped, thrusting its wheels against him, the headlights whispering, 'I will find you, and I WILL run over you...'

The boy didn't have time to scream-- he leaped out of the way of the car, against all of his emotions -- it was just instinct -- and lay sprawling on the floor.

The car screeched back onto the road, leaving the boy cowering, in more pain than before.

He was only part-conscious as he heard the lamppost creaking softly. His ankle throbbed where he had twisted it, and his hands were blistered. 

Once again, listening to his instincts had only made things worse. Not once in his life had he made the right decisions.

The boy allowed himself one final glance up, wishing the car could have swallowed him, and saw the ominous metal pole, falling,

Falling,

Falling...

Falling onto him. 

He was gripped by pain once again that shook him from all around.

He thought he could hear his spine crack.

As he closed his eyes and readied himself to depart this world forever, he allowed his thoughts to wander to his life. 

Faint memories shrouded his mind, about once being a carefree, happy child, but those days were now over. He fought to remember something -- anything -- about his identity, about who he had once been, to at least make his last thought of the world something happy for once, to bring into the other world.

He searched and searched, and found something that could once have been his name--

'Elliot,' he whispered.

And it all faded to black.