Johnathans eyes slowly slid open, awoken to the sound of a soothing melody of peaceful wind as it caressed his slightly grimed face, The boy awoke laid back against what appeared to be a large rock, his lower body laid on the wet grass of the forest floor, and for a moment, Johnathans heart ceased to move. Fear engulfed his senses, anxiety controlled him, his breath ceased, afraid of being attacked, afraid if someone was watching him. Why was he here? Where was he? Who put him here? Where is everyone? What time was it? So many questions raced through his mind, is was natural to be scared, natural to be frightened of such a scenario. The last he remembers was being inside his bedroom, fully clothed in his bed, contemplating over his scenario and the next to awaken here...

Johnathans hands trembled, until the cold familiar touch grazed his fingertip, instinctually jolting his hand away, he gasped fearfully, on instinct, his head twisted to gaze immediately at the forest floor. A pair of scissors was neatly beside him, opened, on the tip of each steel side, was a small inch of dry liquid, a familiar look to Johnathan, remembrance of his waking routine.

Tears swelled up in his light blue eyes, before he slowly grasped the pair of scissors by the handle, using both hands to open the blade of the scissors up, Johnathan then placed the opened scissors toward his neck, the blades cold familiar feel ominously touched his feeble, weak, worthless skin, and for the first time since arriving here, he spoke up, his words were muffled however, weak and croaked, so as to not catch anyones attention if someone were to be around him.

[b]"Just... apply pressure... That's all it takes... Then you wont hurt anyone again... Then... This world could finally be relieved at your non-existence..."[/b]

Johnathan sat there motionless, silence filled his head, intelligence wavering, but as despair swallowed him, he was too much of a coward in his own mind to die. Once again, like so many days before, Johnathan pulled the scissors back and slid them into his jean pockets once he closed them shut, depression pounding at his chest with grief and regret. Worthless, that's what he thought of himself as, a worthless piece of nothing. That was all Johnathan could think. Nobody exactly cared for him, it was fitting. But he was a selfish, puny creature, and like puny creatures, they keep going, regardless of their own desires. 

Johnathan slowly stood up onto his feet, folding his arms together in a way one would hug themselves, he limped and struggled to move on, holding his head in agony. Great, just what was needed, another chronic Migraine... All he could do was keep going, his right eye shut, clenched to control the pain of his Migraine pulsating in his forehead, another pain he had to put up with, and so fearfully, sick in his stomach, with agony in many forms, he walked, not caring about the pain of the blisters on his feet, he had to move, nobody would care if he was in pain anyway, he thought to himself.

It was then Johnathan came to a dirt road after travelling a while, his ribs ached from moving too much, as he spotted a peculier looking individual [@skyrte], fear sank deep once he got a look of his features, he looked just like any other person, but that's what bothered him... What if he was just like every other person? Johnathan had nothing to defend himself with, but this man looked strong... Maybe he could protect him? With that, Johnathan approached, not masking his movements before he called out to the man, stuttering and whimpering in his words, obviously afraid.

[b]"P- please don't hurt me... I- i'm lost... I-"[/b]

Johnathan had to gulp down vomit from speaking, his heart pumped loudly, afraid of what would become of him now that he spoke, but it was too late to go back now, he made sure to stay at far enough a distance to not upset or anger the man, despite being 6 foot 1 inches tall, he had very youthful features, which made him look a little more younger in his teens. Stas could clearly tell Johnathan was afraid, his arms and legs trembled, and he clearly wasn't an athletic type, weak in all manners.

[b]"I-i'm sorry..."[/b]