If You Help...

Just eight years old. He grit his teeth, held his arm as if it could protect against the cold.

"Help me."

"Just some food."

"Please!" He was growing a bit angry, speaking through almost closed lips.

So many hands that would reach out, so many kind eyes before--

This time it was a girl no older than fifteen, in a school uniform with the most clear blue eyes.

And as if caught in a flash they widened.

Her hand retracted, muttering about an adult doing the deed.

Shouldn't be involved.

He stumbled to sit back.

Alone. And cold.