Hurting.

The streets of Sunderland were blustering with hordes of moving people, cars, automobiles of all sorts, yellow taxis and children running. The sunlit roads always offered a speckled gem view of the blazing sun, promising warmth, good vibes, and refreshing feelings, but not for him!

Under the black hood of a sweatshirt, a slender-legged boy was trotting the sidewalks; hands slumped in his pant pockets. Anyone who saw him could mistake him for those pickpocket hoodlums who disguised their illicit activities from public view by putting on such an inappropriate outfit on a blazing morning as this one. But not in this boy's case.

He looked too affluent to be mistaken for one of those touts. His eyes also shone like blue sapphires under his disguise irrespective of how much effort he put in to hiding his features.