There's this frigid aura in the air around him, you can almost sense him approaching. Maybe it's from the way he talks or maybe it's the way he carries himself. No, it's probably those expressionless eyes that bore into you. There's an inexplicable vacancy in his eyes that I can't quite explain. His mouth opens as if he's about to say something. The air in front of him frosts as he exhales sharply, his hooded eyes flickering, showing a moment of stripped vulnerability.

The raucous whispers swarm around us again as people stare down at us. He wrings his hands together and looks down dejectedly. When he looks back up those uncertain momentary feelings were gone and his eyes were hollow again. Your eyes are meant to be the window to your soul, but as I searched his and deciphered nothing, I knew he had swiftly killed any feelings that had dared snake out. His slack jaw tightened as he snapped it shut, clenched his teeth and turned around to leave, his clammy fists clenching and unclenching.

They call him an outcast. A loser. A social reject.

Driven away by the watchful eyes of society he shuts himself inside now.

- Anika