The boy was at the end of his line. He was starving, leg broken, and will deteriorating. He sat in an alley, alone, waiting for death. Either he died by starvation or the cold will take him. Either way he'll die and that thought alone brought him peace.

He looked to the sky above, desolate and ugly. The storms of winter brewed as the wind swept across the streets and into the dark alley. The boy shivered and shook. Nestling between two trash bags smelling of alcohol and rot.

He was dead, so dead. He knew it and fought it, but his fighting was futile with a broken leg. Instead, he began thinking of better times.

Times where he didn't have to steal and hunt rat for food. Times where his father made him delicious warm meals and had a warm bed to lay in. Times that are beginning to seem more like a distant memory as the days go by. Tears flow down the boy's cheeks when his mother and father died in a car accident.

The boy and his sister were sent to his uncle and aunt. At first, it was okay; his uncle and aunt didn't have the money to support them but tried their best anyway. Next, his uncle began to drink more and more heavily. Then, the civil arguments between his uncle and aunt turn to full-on fights.

The boy shivered as he remembered the fighting. Everything and anything being thrown back and forth. His uncle drunkenly yelling as he stomped out the door and drives away.

Finally, his aunt left and never came back, leaving both his sister and him. After that. Everything began to get worse. The boy's uncle began using his sister for his drunken aggression. Every day she went to school with bruises from head to toe. Many teachers tried to talk to her, but she just told them what she always told them, she fell or had some other accident.

His sister had the worst of it at school. Being bullied by the other girls because of her clothes weren't "In style". They beat and berate her just as much as their uncle would. But she still kept that spark, that force of will to carry her through the months

One day, after his sister was beaten. His uncle picked up her and threw her into the bedroom, slamming the door. The boy didn't know what was happening, but the shrieks. Gods, the terrifying shrieks pierced his ears and his soul.

The boy slammed the door over and over again. Trying to bust it open, but he was too weak. Eventually, the shrieking stopped and the door open.

The memory brought tears to his eyes as many burst rolling down his cheeks. He hated what he saw after. His sister was dead, the spark wasn't there anymore. She wouldn't even respond to anything the boy said. She was like a mindless zombie just following her routine.

She disappeared just like his mother, father, and aunt. He left that veil place after she disappeared. He wandered around. At first, he asked for food, begged even. No one would give him anything. Then he began to steal. Sometimes from garbage and sometimes from the market. Sometimes he caught a rat and cooked it.

Until one day he saw a bakery. The delicious scent that enticed his nose and brought him to stare at the sweets with a drool-filled gaze. He couldn't take it anymore and tried to beg with the shop owner. The old hag wouldn't even let him have the stale ones. Instead, he stole a cake and ran out gobbling it down. The sweetness was too good to pass.

He heard sirens as he kept running. He ran from alley to alley until he came to a dead end. Where the group of cops ganged up on him and beat him, breaking his leg in the process. They left him in the trash to die.Where he is now.

He was going in and out of consciousness since he was left for dead. He always woke up in pain and agony. He would just moan and groan as he slowly drifted off.

His dreams were beautiful with warm beds, plenty of food, his parents, and big sister all alive and well. The boy began hating waking up. He wanted to sleep forever.

He drifts off again into the dream world. There he met his big sister and parents. This time was different. They weren't what all his other dreams were like. This time they were angry.

"What are you doing?" His mother accused sternly standing cross-armed.

The boy thought for a second, "Sleeping?"

His father pitched in, "That wasn't the question. Why are you sitting there waiting?"

Tears began to form in his eyes, "There's no point anymore. I'm dead, no matter what I do. I'll die."

His sister came to him comforting him with a hug, "Don't say that. You can live. You have to live, for us."

"B-but, my leg is broken an-and-"

"No 'ands' or 'buts'!" His dad interrupted then softens, "Only solutions."

The boy understood this, he had to live. He nods his answer.

"Good," The three said as they slowly fade.

The boy began to sob, "Mommy, daddy, sissy! Please come back!" He ran toward them until he woke up with tears streaming down his starving cheeks.

He was about to sob when he wiped his eyes in protest. No longer will he sit there and watch everything happen. No longer will he take shit from other people. Now, now was his day of resurrection.

He rolled the trash bags off him and crawled with all the strength he had left. Clawing his way through the dark alley with dead weight pulling him back.

The dull ache slowed his body and soul but his will determined him to clutch onto his life harder. Eventually, he was out of the alley and in the middle of the street. Cold and alone.

The boy rolled onto his back, tired from exhaustion. A snowflake floated upon his head. Then many flakes began drifting towards the ground. The boy began laughing a maniacal laugh as the flurry of snow came upon him.