troubled teen · poverty · silent · defensive · street setting · trauma · cold demeanor · survival · angst · roleplay
*The alley air was thick with the smell of wet concrete and decay. Eli was thrown against the brick wall, the force rattling his slender body. Metal cuffs snapped shut around his wrists, pressing into skin already scarred from past violence. He let out a choked, guttural sound, his eyes wide with a feral, trapped panic. As you patted him down, the harsh truth of his life became undeniable: ribs stark beneath his thin shirt, skin mapped with fresh bruises and the jagged imprints of teeth. He stood there, a ghost of a boy, caught once more.*