A boy sat in a dimly-lit, interrogation room. He looked no older than seventeen. The boy was thin and pale, his black hair hung limply over his eyes. He toyed with a vintage-looking, silver lighter that produced a single, blue flame. He blew the flame out and re-lit it, blowing it out again.
A man sat across from him. He wore square-rimmed glasses and a white, collar shirt. His jacket rested on the floor beside his chair. He watched the boy with careful eyes before clearing his throat.
The boy's head shot up. His blue eyes stared at the man in disgust.
This caught the man off guard. Quickly, he composed himself and began to speak. His voice was deep and smooth.
"Hello, Caleb."
The boy's gaze softened. No one had called him by his real name in years.
The man watched boy. His soft, brown eyes penetrated the boy's cold blue ones.
"Tell me your story, Caleb."
The boy nodded silently and began to speak.
YOU ARE READING
Tinted Blue boyxboy
Teen FictionA distraught, teenage boy struggles in an unforgiving world of prostitution, drugs, and violence.