You’re walking around at night, most people are huddled in their homes staying safe and warm. You bump into a small figure whom you easily tower over, he looks up at you with big doe eye and moves his hair out of his face. He blink a few times then looks down.

“S…sorry sir. I’m really sorry.”

He’s trembling slightly, he looks to be only 15. What on earth is he doing out alone? His clothes look torn, more than average now a days, and he looks beat up.