The city was never a place Jasper had frequented. He can't deal with crowds of people, he breaks out in a cold sweat when he is in an unfamiliar environment, he panics with the loud noises of the lively city.
As Jasper took a shaky step off the bus, he nearly stumbled just from the force of the difference in sensations that rammed him at once. From the thick smell of cigarette smoke in the air, to the honks of raged drivers caught in peak hour traffic, to the citizens around him carrying briefcases, topped with expensive designer suits, yelling into cell phones, the distinct click clacking of high heels penetrating his thoughts.
He can't stand touch. The touch of another human he can't fathom, it burns him, makes him panic. Yet in the city there was hardly a way to avoid it.
Jasper knew his destination and carrying a torn rucksack on his fragile back, walking with a brace made getting to where he needed to be that much harder. It took him 45 minutes in the bustling peak hour foot traffic, to walk the two city blocks. By the time he arrived at the "NATIONAL BANK" he was hyperventilating, black dots were appearing behind his eye lids, he felt nauseous, and he knew he needed to calm himself down, or he would make a fool of himself by having an anxiety attack in the middle of the street..
Before entering the bank, he stopped to rummage through his backpack, he found his 3 year old Noise Cancelling headphones and delicately fixed them to his head while mumbling mathematics multiplications sums under his breath. This was his self calming technique. He loves numbers. Passers by were none the wiser. Everyone carried on walking to their destination completely oblivious to the newly turned 18 year old who was minutes away from passing out.
Once Jasper deemed himself as calm enough to approach a human being inside the bank, he got out his documents, including a copy of his mothers will, solicitor letters, and his own birth certificate and identification. Due to his lack of confidence around others, he got his notebook and pen out, so he could communicate that way with the bank. As far as Jasper was concerned the less he had to talk, the less chance there was of people making fun of him. Once he was prepared, he walked the extra few metres and braced himself while he opened the doors of the bank.
90 minutes later, Jasper made his way out of the bank, he didn't know where to go from there. He had no house, no food, no one by his side to reassure him that everything was going to be alright.
That is what Jasper hopes for one day in his life. That one person that will warm his heart and mind, that will see past the physical and the mental imperfections, yet still hold him in their arms, while whispering sweet words in his ears, telling him how much they love him, that everything will be okay, as long as they had each other. Jasper dreams about this. He does not fantasise like most teenagers his age, he does not chase after girls, he does not party, dance, drink or smoke. He has never experienced his first kiss. And the last time he willingly let someone hold his hand was when he was 5 years old in Preschool.
Jasper knows that his dreams won't ever come true, after all, who would love a physically and mentally deformed being?
With a shake of his head, to clear his eyes of his tears and to erase the self destructive thoughts, he looked up into the sky and made his way to the nearest hotel. Sure Jasper had access to money now. But he does not want to rely on that. He wants to save that for the future. So with a sigh, Jasper made a mental plan, tomorrow he is going to get on a bus and just keep going west and not looking back. He was going to let go of his past, and the recent years, he is going to start fresh and give himself a new life.