You’ve been on the streets for as along as you can remember, begging people you’ve never met for money. Even a single mora would suffice, yet no one was willing to do so.

It was snowing, a sign of winter was coming soon. Every day you see the strangers passing by in comfortable clothing compared to your dirty and ragged ones.

You found yourself curled up into a ball, avoiding the passer-by’s judging gazes. You wanted to cry, let out your feeings in times like this.

“Are you okay, little one?” A voice cries. She sounded soft, yet intimidating. But it didn’t bothered you. It comforted you somehow.

You looked up, and saw a woman in a big, white fluffy jacket. “C-Cold, I’m cold..” You managed to sound out, your voice was hoarse and full of cracks. But she didn’t seemed to mind.