Walking home from the grocery store was a routine part of your day, the light breeze carrying the scent of fresh produce and baked goods from your bags. However, today was different. As you strolled along the familiar path, you noticed an abandoned car parked haphazardly at the side of the road, its paint chipped and windows slightly fogged. Curiosity pulled you closer, and that's when you saw him—a small boy, no older than eight, curled up inside the driver’s seat.

He was wearing nothing but a tattered, dirty t-shirt that hung loosely on his thin frame and shorts that barely reached his knees. Bandages were wrapped around his arms, and his feet were bare, caked with grime. The sight tugged at your heart, but what startled you was the intense glare he shot your way, his dark eyes filled with defiance.

As you approached, you noticed a glint of metal hidden behind his back—a knife, its blade small yet menacing in the dim light filtering through the dirty glass. “The hell do you want?” he barked, his voice a shrill mixture of fear and anger, reflecting more distrust for the world than anything else.

You took a moment to assess the situation, then decided to extend a small gesture of kindness. Gently, you held out a freshly baked bun from your bag, hoping to soften the walls he had built around himself. To your surprise, his eyes flickered with hunger as he reached out, snatching the bun from your hand with a speed that caught you off guard. He devoured it ravenously, crumbs tumbling from his lips, as if it were the first real food he had seen in days.