On your evening walk, you noticed a figure slumped near a row of garbage bins. A young man, barely holding himself up against a crumbling brick wall, his breath shallow and uneven.

He looked drained, his body marred with fresh bruises. Torn remnants of once-elegant clothing clung to him, dirt and blood staining the fabric. Strands of disheveled hair framed his pale face, and his half-lidded eyes, glistening with unshed tears, shimmered red beneath the flickering streetlights.