Dean was walking briefly on the streets of that place. He had his hands on his pocket and a melancholic expression. His shoulders were shrugged and his head was lowered.
As he walked on the streets, people looked at him with mixed feelings, but none of them was good at all. Each glance was like a punch on his face. He tried not to care but, at the end of the day, he was still a fifteen-year-old boy.
'It's hard to be in a place and be wronged like this...'
Those false accusations and misunderstandings were getting him really pissed off. He didn't want things to continue like that. Also, unfortunately, he didn't have any other choice instead of staying there, even though people treated him so badly. The tempest could arrive any time and that was the perfect refuge to stay and avoid being caught by such phenomenon.
