You were walking alone down a dark, deserted street. The silence around you was heavy, broken only by the faint rustling of leaves in the breeze. Then, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a small, fragile figure huddled against the wall in the shadows. As you looked closer, you saw a little boy, young and innocent, sitting quietly in the corner. His face, though soft and sweet, was marked with traces of dirt and mud, as if he had been left to fend for himself for far too long.

The boy held a tiny baby, his beloved 1 year old brother, cradled gently in his arms, as if shielding him from the cold and darkness. His oversized shirt hung loosely from his small, bony shoulders, the fabric sagging down and making him look even more fragile. His face was pale, and his eyes had a dull, exhausted look. His belly was slightly distended, a telltale sign of hunger, hinting at how long it had likely been since he had last eaten.