He knew he was lost, knew he did not belong in this place of hard planes, sharp corners, and clash of noise that never seemed to cease nor make sense.
He did not, however, know where he belonged. He wasn't quite sure where he had been just minutes before.
"Someone will help me!" the boy informed no one in particular, well-aware it was his right to command. No one much noticed him at all on the busy boulevard. "Help me!" He insisted, a slight whine rising in his voice. A man actually bumped into him, affronting his sense of dignity. "I said to help me!" The note rising in his voice was no more than his right to complain about the universe at large, and he followed with a more formal one. "This is not fair!"
A woman passing by, carrying a tablet sized device in front of her, came to a stop. She was dark of hair, with a touch of age in her eyes and skin. Her features were narrowly drawn, slender and welcome to the boy against the contrast of the harsh, alien landscape. Her eyes rested on the boy, his hair so fair as to be considered white in the sunlight, his features sharp and angular. He drew himself taller, proud and fierce under her gaze.
"It never helps, complaining of fairness," she said seriously.
"No one will do as I say!" The boy glared up at her in youthful defiance.
"It's New York City. They all have places to be, rushing to not be late, like grown-ups do." She explained it a patronizing tone, one intended to show him just how foolishly childish he was being, the boy decided.
"Well, it's still not fair! They should just make more hours in their day or some such!" the boy decreed. His bi-colored eyes looked up, meeting the woman's once more, and saw as she first frowned, then looked at him in confusion.
"What's your name? Mine's Sarah," she introduced.
"And I am…" The boy tried to say his name, only nothing was in his mind to pass on. How could he not know his own name? "…not telling you," he managed to tell her after only a brief hesitation.
The woman frowned again, then shook her head, pushing it aside. "For a moment, I thought you might say Jareth."
"What kind of silly old name is…." Try as he might, he could not say the name.
She saw his struggle, and hesitated only a moment more, before offering her hand to him. Now, the boy was unsure, which angered him, and he merely looked at her.
"Are you going to help me, then?"
"Everything in my own power," she told him.
To Be Continued….