I barely got my hood over my head before the howling wind almost knocked me over. I had to walk holding my arms in front of my face to shield myself from flying ice and snow. In seconds my shins stiffened from the cold, making me wish I’d worn something thicker over my tights. Leg warmers, perhaps.

I trudged through the streets of the city, wishing I could be in any of the skyscrapers I passed. Most buildings in this area were commercial, not residences, yet I still imagined they were homes to high-class families: your typical mother, father, and son all sitting in a room and eating warm soup together; the kind of families you’d see in commercials.

Just thinking about soup made my stomach growl. I clutched my stomach, willing it to hold on a while longer. I couldn’t wait to get home.

When I neared the street leading up to the sketchy alley I considered taking the long way again. Sure, I’d be risking another thirty minutes of walking, but I would be safe from whatever horrors I would find in that hovel.

But my stomach continued to gurgle, and paired with my freezing body, I was reminded that quicker was better in this weather. Ice now fell from the sky, pelting my hood and biting at my shins. It was like nature really wanted throw everything it had at me, which irked me to no end.

My resolve to use the shorter route returned and I continued forward. Before I knew it, I was facing the entrance to the sketchy tunnel that was the alley.

The opening was marked by Yang’s Meat on the left and the Hong Hua Pub on the right. Both were closed because of the storm, their windows dark and gloomy. The lights were on above them, though. The apartment complexes all had tenants tonight; no one wanted to be out in the blizzard.

I checked my watch. 12:00 a.m. Another twenty or so minutes until my mother called.

Biting my lip, I stepped into the alley, the layer of snow on the ground thinning out as I left the main road. Darkness surrounded me, the only light coming eerie street lamps outside the entrance, exit, and the sky tens of feet above my head. Wind rustled through, carrying with it bits of ice, snow, and the faintest smell of rotting meat. Whatever trash had been discarded here had frozen, so at least the smell was minimized. Still, I wrinkled my nose, willing myself not to gag.

I kept my head up and eyes forward so I wouldn’t have to see any of the poor pets left out to die that night. Anything brought out here would’ve frozen to death already. Street cleaners would get them in the morning as usual, or whenever the blizzard died down enough for them to work.

Shivering, I saw my breath in front of me form a cloud of cold air. I watched it dissipate a moment too long before I slipped on an icy patch. Yelping, I spread my arms out to keep balanced, glancing down at my feet to make sure I hadn’t stepped on anything gross.

Big mistake. My feet steadied themselves on a patch of frozen vomit. My insides churned at the sight of it, but I forced myself to ignore it and keep going.

Thankfully, the end of the alley was nearing. The street lights on the other side beckoned me out from this hellish place, along with the sight of the friendlier open road.

I avoided another nasty fall as I reached the exit by grabbing hold of one of the icy trash bins against the wall to the left. I quickly retracted my hand, for the surface was cold and I had no gloves. Just to my luck, I moved too quickly and skidded right into a pile of snowy garbage bags stacked against the opposite wall.

Groaning, I pulled myself out of the trash bags and dusted the snow off my coat. I must’ve looked like a snowman right then, very embarrassing on my part. 

A sudden movement drew my eyes away from my snowy coat to the trash bags. Was it so cold that I was hallucinating or was there something moving among the waste?

It could’ve been a rat or some poor cat that hadn’t died yet. Things like that were to be expected here, so I shouldn't have bothered looking again.

The normal thing to do would’ve been to hurry on my way, but out of curiosity and a little fright I poked the bags with the end of my right boot. Sure, I might regret this, but since it was right in front of me how could I resist? 

The bag was still, then it twitched. I poked it again. The same thing happened.

If it’d been a rat or an animal wouldn’t they have come out of hiding by now? I thought. 

I held my breath, bracing myself for the food stink, and parted the two bags on top of the pile, the frozen plastic crunching beneath my fingers.

I drew back in shock, my mouth agape. In my surprise I forgot about the cold.

Beneath the garbage bags was a bundle of blankets, coated with more snow. The bundle squirmed, startling me. Whatever it was should not have been alive.

That should've been a cue to run home and leave whatever creepy thing it was alone. That's what my mother would've done. That's what she would've wanted me to do as well.

But I reached down anyway and took the bundle in my hands, gently brushing the snow off the blankets. Holding my breath, I began unwrapping the top layers of blankets, anticipating what I’d find underneath.

If it was a live kitten or puppy I decided I was going to take it home. Best take care of it for the night so I could get it to an animal shelter in the morning.

But if it was dead I was just going to leave it. No point in trying to protect what had already gone.

Strangely enough, it turned out to be neither.