A single memory flickered through the darkness, a beacon in the storm. It was a day like any other. It was two years earlier. I was five then.

another day of relentless abuse. My parents threw me out with faces contorted with rage. "Get out, you useless scum," they spat, their words acting like acid on my already raw soul.

I wandered through the cobbled streets, my heart a leaden weight in my chest. I approached a group of travelers whose carts were loaded with goods, hoping for a glimmer of kindness and a chance to earn a few coins.

I was a child, barely five years old, but the world seemed unimaginably cruel to me. "Is there work for money?" I asked in a barely whispered voice. They refused me, their eyes full of indifference. As I turned to leave, a gruff voice sounded behind me.

"Hey, kid, help us pack, and we'll give you some money." I turned around and felt a glimmer of hope return to me. He was tall and powerfully built, wearing faded pants, a worn leather jacket, and a wide-brimmed hat that protected his face from the sun. He had a scruffy beard that reached his chest and a wrinkled hand. Despite his rough exterior, his eyes were gentle and wise.

"I'll do it," I said, my voice regaining some of its lost strength. As I worked, the man watched me with a strange intensity. When I had finished, he handed me a small bag filled with coins.

"What are you going to do with it?" he asked. "I'm going to give it to my parents," I said in a barely audible voice. He noticed the scars that adorned my hands and face, silent witnesses to my parents' brutality.

"Do your parents abuse you to get money?" he asked, his voice gentle for the first time. I hesitated, but something in his gaze, a flicker of understanding, urged me to speak.

"They threw me out every day to get money," I whispered, my eyes downcast. "If I don't bring enough, they beat me."

He scratched his beard. His tone turned friendly, and a nostalgic expression etched itself on his face.

He said "Remember this kid, Those who allow their past to drag them down are nothing more than nobody—they are just weak, unsophisticated, foolish, and so forth. So what I am trying to say is that don’t let your past define you; let your future refine you. You are still young and have plenty of time to live a beautiful life, so live a life with no regrets.” a calm smile etched on his face as he said it.

While returning, I saw the old man's carriage driving out of town. As his words replayed in my head, A strange feeling settled in my heart.

My thoughts returned to the present. Tears streamed down my face as I realized the profound regret of not escaping my torment sooner.