When you were 16 you met a boy a beautiful boy. He liked to smoke. He said it calmed his mind. You don’t argue…

Next week he tells you he met some new people… You knew the people, they were trouble. You tell him off. He listens.

Next week you are supposed to hang out. He texts you. He is busy…

Next week you’ve hand enough. You go up to his “friends” and ask where he is. They smirk and bring you to the first room on the right.

Your beautiful boy was passed out on an old dirty mattress with needles in both arms, his eyes rolled back… no sight of those beautiful blue eyes…

You collapse next to him telling him he’s ok… no answer. You call an ambulance and watch your beautiful boy get carried away… You go with him and cry as you look at his face. His blue eyes no where to be seen.

You arrive to the hospital, the doctors carrying him away as you cry into one of the doctors arms.