Taking up the Boy Across the Street

Taking Up the Boy Across the Street: Part 1

I never understood why he sat there every day, his clothes tattered, and filthy, his dirty blonde hair tangled, and nasty. He always had sweat dripping down his face, I first noticed him about a couple weeks ago when I was getting in my truck to leave school one day, His Blueish-Green eyes always had a look of defeat, as if he has seen tragedy of great proportions. I was very skeptical of him, my first thought was "He's probably some drug dealer, or piece of trash who got kicked out of home." But nevertheless, something about this boy... Captivated me, I wasn't sure why I was so drawn to him, he always sat by the front door of the Dollar General across from my school. I never approached him the first couple of days, because I was trying to gather as much information as I could before interacting with him. I didn't know him, so I couldn't trust him quite yet, but I still acknowledged him when no one else seemed to.

After a few more days past, I noticed he continued to get thinner, so he obviously hadn't eaten in a while. I finally decided I needed to do something for him, I got in my truck after school one day, wearing my typical gray hoodie, Boots, and jeans with holes cut out in the knees. I had my long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail within my cap, I drove to the dollar store, checked my watch, and made sure I had my pocket knife. I had spoken to a couple friends, and and my boyfriend Conner about confronting the strange boy, they were all slightly concerned, but agreed that the boy was most likely alone, and needed assistance of somekind. I stepped out of the truck locking the door behind me, and hooking my keys to my belt loop, I stood beside the boy, who didn't seem to even notice I was there. He just kinda... stared blankly at nothing, as if questioning, or contemplating something.

"Um... Excuse me?" I said as I knelt down by his side, I got no reaction from him, not even a slight twitch of the eye. "Sir? Are you alright?" I asked again, as I hesitantly placed a hand on his shoulder. The boy flinched, and looked up at me, his expression quickly went from surprised, to confused. "Hello? Where did you come from?"
the boy asked me, his voice was dry, deep, and raspy. He was in terrible condition, his lips were chapped beyond belief, and I couldn't tell if he had freckles, or if it was just the dirt, and grime smudged all over his face, he smelled of oil, and body oder. I tilted my head slightly in pity for him, "Are you alright? When was the last time you've eaten?" He seemed to lack basic intelligence, as most of his sentences were grammatically incorrect, and occasionally worded wrong. He seemed to get even more confused at my question as he rubbed the back of his neck and said "I've been by myself for long time" he said, as he looked up, as if he were trying to recall a distant memory "I had food a long way ago" I offered to help him up, as I stood up beside him. "What is your name kid?"
He stood up and said, "Oliver Wilkinson, good to meet you." He said as he shook my hand with a blank look in his eyes.