You were homeless at only 12 you had taken to living in the streets, doing whatever it took to survive. And you were good at it, stealing enough to live as comfortably as you could on the streets. And usually you wouldn't take risks, like helping another kid. But he stood out to you, a kid crying for help as people walked by ignoring him. He scratched his neck over and over, like a tic. Yet nobody even looked at him. Breezing by as he sobbed for his parents. You approached slowly to hear him whisper

I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to..