That day felt longer than any day I had lived before. Looking for a job had drained every drop of strength left in my small body. With each passing hour, the hunger grew sharper, gnawing at my insides like a living thing. We hadn't eaten since yesterday. Not even scraps. But still, deep inside me, a faint spark kept whispering that maybe just maybe if I came home with something, Father would smile. Even once.
"Cecilia," I said weakly, my throat dry from thirst, "do you think the people in the market would be kinder than those in the neighborhood?"
"I don't know, brother," she replied softly, her eyes scanning the busy road. "But I think they might. Let's try to…"
Her words trailed off as she noticed me moving toward a small grocery shop nearby. Behind the wooden counter stood a woman with tired eyes and a cloth tied over her head. She frowned as I approached, her shadow cast long and sharp in the fading sunlight.
"What is it, kid?" she asked, wiping her hands on her apron.
"Please…" I began, trying to stand straight even though my knees trembled. "Can you help me with a few cents… or maybe a dollar? I really need it to buy food. I haven't eaten since yesterday…"
I bowed slightly, letting my voice shake with honesty and hope.
The woman's eyes swept over me. For a brief moment, I thought I saw pity flicker there. "Okay, wait here. I'm coming," she said as she turned to go inside.
Cecilia hurried to my side, clutching my arm. "What are you doing, Harry?"
"I'm trying to get us breakfast," I said, pretending not to feel weak. "I can't take this hunger anymore."
She looked down, biting her lip. "But are you sure this is the right way? They might not treat you kindly. I mean… because you're… you know, fat and all…"
Her words stung, but I forced a small smile. "Don't worry. We'll "
Before I could finish, a splash of filthy water drenched us from head to toe. My body froze in shock.
"Get out of my store!" the woman screamed from the doorway, holding an empty bucket. "As fat as you are, you dare ask me for food? Do you give me money to feed you? Scram!"
Humiliation burned in my chest. My sister grabbed my hand, and together we ran through the market as people whispered and stared.
"Are you okay?" Cecilia asked, stopping us behind a pile of wooden crates.
I stared down at my soaked clothes. "I'm dirty again… What do we do now?"
She hesitated. Then, as if making a hard choice, she said, "I'll find some money. You wait here, okay?"
"Wait, Cecilia—how?" I tried to ask, but she was already gone, swallowed by the falling rain.
The sky wept with me. The drops fell harder, soaking me until the cold bit through my bones. My stomach twisted painfully, and I sat down near an empty stall, clutching my belly. That was when I saw it a rusted old plate lying nearby.
Without thinking, I picked it up, placed it before me, and curled into myself as I waited. The rain poured heavier, drumming against the tin roofs and muddy ground. My eyelids grew heavy. I was too tired to cry anymore.
Just as the world began to fade into grey, I heard a voice.
"Hey, kid!"
I blinked, lifting my head weakly. A girl stood before me about my age, maybe a little older
with long snow-white hair that shimmered even under the cloudy sky. Her eyes were soft but sharp, full of life.
"What are you doing out here by yourself? You look sick. Are you okay?" she asked, offering me her hand.
"I'm waiting for my big sister," I murmured, my voice barely a whisper. "She told me to wait here."
"I see. Then come inside my shop. I'll get you something to eat," she said kindly.
"But I didn't ask for food…" I began timidly.
"You didn't have to," she said with a smile, waving me in.
Her shop was small but warm. The air smelled of rice and dried herbs. It was neat, cozy, and safe from the rain. She handed me a clean shirt and told me to change. When I came out, she gave me a steaming cup of coffee.
"Here, drink this. You must be cold," she said, sitting beside me. "What's your name? I'll go first. I'm Angel. My mom owns this shop. She asked me to look after it today."
"My name is Harrison," I said quietly, holding the cup close for warmth. "Thank you for helping me. But I should leave. Your mother won't like me being here with you."
"It's fine," she said, smiling again. "You can stay. Eat as much as you want. My mom won't be mad she's at our other shop anyway."
Her voice carried something rare kindness. Something I had almost forgotten existed.
And in that tiny, rain-soaked store, for the first time in a long while… I felt human again.
Or so I thought