A dark alleyway, in the middle of the city.  Isolated covered in scum and crawling with pests of different sizes and shapes.  The top of the food chain of pests, the criminals; devoid of the morals they traded for selfish gain.  Lowlifes who would murder or rob as easily as they breath their undeserved air.  Tread carefully if you must walk through their territory, these scum who see other humans as nothing more than money, or pleasure, no shortcut is worth brushing shoulders with swine such as this.

Within these alleyways and backroads, live all sorts, not just the criminals.  With the classes clearly cut and divided, those who cannot afford to feed themselves, let alone their offspring, tend to abandon their own.  In this harsh world full of crime and poverty, there is no shortage of “street rats” as they are coined.  These children, of various sizes and ages, were abandoned by those who brought them into life.  They scour the streets fighting to live.  Some banding together, others choosing to go at it solo, all suffering, all in pain, and all of them starving. 

These children, delt an unfair hand by life, live a day at a time, as the next day is never guaranteed.  They steal from street vendors, or pit pocket passerby’s, some give in to their plight and wait for death to come, neither fighting it nor running from it. 

Adults, those with their conscience still intact, who just can’t resolve themselves to commit atrocities, have no other way to make money.  Some choose to sell themselves, whether it be into slavery, which is supposedly outlawed, or to brothels.  Those privier to commit sins against their own choose to sell others, by force of course.  Jewels and items that fetch high prices are always up for grabs, the rich tend to avoid such places due to the once high probability of mugging.  Some choose more grotesque ways as human organs can be sold for a high price.  In these dark roads, the city’s black market knows no limit.

In a distant alleyway away from the hustle and bustle of the law abiding populous, stands a single dumpster, covered in the same grime as its home, inside however, we find a peculiar boy.  A poor soul who, against others’ advice, decided one day to take the dangerous shortcut through those same dark and dangerous alleyways.  His friends, other street rats, told him; “Do not, under any circumstances cut through the alleyways without one of the older boys”.  However, as you can clearly see, he did not listen to such life saving advice.  He thought himself grown; he thought himself strong enough. 

His final resting place, a disgusting dumpster.  Beaten and taken for what little he had by the scum of the alley that takes human form.  He was outmatched the second he went in alone.  Grown men, the size of giants; surrounded the young boy with avarice in their eyes.  Although futile, he tried to fight his attackers, it was as if, to them, a plush toy tried to fight them, his panicked punches and kicks amounted to nothing.  As the men closed in, their hideous laughter; their cackling was all he could hear.

They grabbed his arms, pulled them over his head and began to beat him, without mercy and with hatred of that of demons.  They thrashed him repeatedly, for no other reason other than they found it relaxing. 

The boy’s last memories before blacking out, those of his friends, his older brothers and younger.  He wished he had listened, why didn’t he listen? Why? Why did he make such a prideful mistake, when he knew deep down, he wasn’t strong.  He remembers how starved he was, how starved they all where, how his older brothers would give them their share of the stolen food.  “I’m not hungry” they would say “You need it more than me, look, see these muscles? I’ll be fine!” He knew they were lying; he knew his hunger was the same if not stronger for them.  His elders, although starved, and tired, always took care of them. 

If only I could have been stronger, if only they didn’t have to take care of me, why am I so weak?

Why? Why? Why.... Until his life left him and left nothing but pain.  They stole everything from him, cutting him open to reveal their prizes.  The poor boy had succumbed to all-too-common organ theft, after, he was dismembered further and thrown in this very dumpster. 

With the increase of crime all throughout the city, the authority in charge of keeping the peace cannot be bothered to patrol alleyways, let alone protect the street rats they deemed lower then themselves.  This world: this poor world, the classes clearly cut and promptly separated, the lowly stay the lowly and the rich get richer; in such a world, is there any hope for those deemed garbage? Deemed lowly and of unimportance?   No.  For those on the top, this has worked for them, why deal with such an unimportant “problem” when they live unbothered by such trivial matters.

“What a poor soul” A voice, beautiful, and transcendent.  “How you have suffered, you, boy, are not the only one to have met such a tragic fate.”  “I know you can hear me boy, look at me.”  The boys dismembered body begins to glow with such faint radiance as his soul, still lingering and attached to his husk, begins to rise to look too the voice.  “Who, who are you?” “Am I, dead?”

“Such is a fate common among those of your life, those who crawl the streets, stealing just to live another day, abandoned by those who brought you into this world.  Left to die without a second thought” “Yes, you have died little one.”  The boy’s light dims as his realization hits him. “I see.”  “Was it at least a good life? Did I try my best? Or was I a burden till the end?” “What of my brothers?” The voice, taken aback, lets his words resonate inside her before speaking again.  “Little one.”  “Your life was one of tragedy, filled with despair and turmoil, those around you, also filled with tragedy are still alive, the ones who knew you, the ones who loved you as if you were their flesh, did not think of you as a burden, the life that was handed to you was lived to your best ability”

“Thankyou.”

“This world has become diseased, plague walks through the dark places of this world, and the light meant to intervene has become slothful and full of resentment and pride.”  As she speaks her hands come forward unto the boy, caressing the soul with a motherly love.  Holding the boy close to her breast; “My son, I am sorry for the pain you had to go through” as a silent realization resonates within him, he says; “It’s ok, really, my life would not have amounted to much more than this, I’m just happy my brothers will have one less mouth to feed” “If you would allow me, to make a selfish request” “My final wish, is that they don’t find my body.  Let them believe I found a better life, please.”

“Such a kind soul, despite the ending you had to endure.” A single tear runs down her face, “You are a good boy”

“This world had left you to death and suffering, do you not resent it? Do you not hate those that hate you?” The radiance asks.  “No.” “No, although what you said is true, I found love with others.  I wouldn’t trade that for anything” 

“Come little one, let us go in peace.”  At her final words the boy and her become a loving and warm beam of light, shooting up into the heavens.  For a moment, the dark alleyway became engulfed in light, as the boy’s body was burned to ashes, flowing in the wind.

“Where is he?” says a boy from afar, “He didn’t wander into an alley alone did he?” Says another.  The boys, the ones from his memory walked past the alley, unknown to them whether it was his final resting place.  “Where did he go?” another cries out.  “Lets keep looking”, the older one directs; “He couldn’t have gone far.”

The boys looked all night, never finding their lost brother.  “Is it, Is it possible, that maybe he was brought in?” Asks one of the younger boys.  “Like adopted?” questions the older; “It, well, no, it’s possible” “He was one of the youngest of us, but there’s no way to tell” “Did he, did he get caught? What if he got caught, he’s not nearly strong enough to survive!” There emotions get more and more heightened with panic.  These boys love their younger “brother” they have been through so much together.  The group had found the little one, one day, in an alleyway much like the one they stand in front of now.

Memories of their first encounter with the boy flood their minds, how emaciated and dead he looked.  Clothed in tattered rags, looking at nothing, miles away, the long stare of those with nothing to live for.  How they clothed him with the little they had; the scraps of food they had to give.  However, with everyday life had returned to his eyes, he was their brother.

They never allowed him to partake in the petty crimes they would commit, mostly stealing food, but they would always give him that food, they would ration it between each other.  There was never enough, but they took care of him, as he was one of the youngest of the group, they had too, they wanted too.

Over time they would learn of his life, how he was born to a poor family, how his mother sold herself daily, the father would be more drunk than he would ever be sober.  The beatings he had to endure, the cold floor of the shack they lived in, never feeding him.  Until finally they got tired of looking at his emaciated bruised body hogging the floor.  Without hesitation or remorse, he was thrown onto the streets, forced to endure the harsh cold nights.

As the boys’ minds swirled further and further into panic, their eyes darting left to right, scared for the brother they were supposed to love and protect.

Amidst this, behind them, a carriage passes them, and the oldest of the group could swear, he saw their brother in the passenger seat.  Swinging his head towards the street in wild curiosity.  The image of a boy, matching the exact resemblance of their beloved younger brother, could be seen by him, a man and woman sat across from each other in the carriage.  Could they have adopted him?

While it was not him, as his soul has already moved on to the other world; for a moment, he feels relief.  Could this be the work of the radiant woman who collected the boy? 

He closes his eyes in relief and puts his hands on the younger boys’ shoulders in front of him, “He’s just fine” Seeing the look on their leader was enough to give them hope and relief, the boys never lie to one another, they fight for each other, and love each as their own.  If he says so, then it must be true.

“Lets go home.” Directs the eldest. 

The boys join and turn back towards their home in quite relief.  Their heads bowed, while they believe him to be fine, they have still lost their younger brother.  Even if he had been adopted, they still loved him.  With this, the young boys’ final wish was fulfilled.

The streetlights illuminating the cobblestone walkway, the eldest begins to reminisce about all the good times, and bad, they all had, the smile the young boy would make no matter how dire the situation, how it would give him resolve and energy to carry-on.  How the boy would fain a smile whenever he’d give him his bread, the eldest knew his heart, he knew it was heavy.  He knew he wished he was stronger, he knew, so he did everything he could to keep his smile from disappearing.  He did that for all the boys under his care, he’s the eldest and strongest, he has a duty to his brothers that he cannot fail, and thinking, that one under his care had finally found a better life; it was enough to keep him fighting for years to come, but that is a different story.

The boy’s soul, now in the other world, had found itself in darkness.  While it had no eyes to see, he could hear the faint sounds of voices in the distance.

“I know you care for the boy, but there are rules!” “You can’t just break them whenever you feel like it!” - “You forget yourself messenger, you forget whom it is you speak so audaciously with”- “I don’t mean any harm, please you must know, the laws were written for a reason, you cannot just bend and break them to fit your feelings… with respect.”

There stand two magnificent figures, women, clothed in light and seemingly weightless.  The woman who brought the boys soul from suffering sits on a large throne, made of what could be seen as granite, polished to that of a mirror.  The land they stand in seems endless, endless water encased in a colorful bright sky.  The clouds are like cotton; and doors of incredible size and material float in the sky untethered by whatever reality would normally be employed. 

Silence overtakes the situation, for a long time there is nothing but a faint tapping, like a fingernail on a hard stone surface.  With a sigh the woman begins to speak again; “Listen, I along with everyone know of the rules in which you speak messenger, however.” Unbeknownst to the boy, who is still shrouded in darkness, she points to his soul.  “Look at it, look at the young boy’s pain, peer into his short, and painful life.”  “We will not speak on this matter again until you do.”

Once again, silence. 

The messenger comes ever closer to the soul of the boy, until he feels the sensation of a hand caressing his head.  Soft and warm, like that of a mother. 

Through the darkness, he begins to hear a faint sadness, a light sobbing and a faint trickle of tears falling and rippling into the water below him.  The hand he felt begins to retract from him, and the sobbing grows silent.

“I, I understand.” The messenger says choking back tears; “You see now?” The woman says, “You see the pain?” “As one of the heavenly rulers here, I just, I, I can’t” “You know his final wish?” “It wasn’t making them pay, it wasn’t burn everything to the ground; he only thought of his brothers.”  “He wanted them to have peace”

“Did you, do something?” The messenger asks with concern.  “I did.”

“What did you do?! You know we can’t interfere!”  Shouts the messenger.  “I burned his body, and made his brothers believe he had found a better life.  I couldn’t help myself, all I did was plant an image of the boy in a carriage.  With that the boys believed, on their own, that he was taken in.”  “Would you rather I left him and had them look upon such a tragic and horrific scene?”

Silence.  The question rendered the messenger without words, until she finally spoke again.  “I, no, no it was a kind thing you did” 

“While I did interfere with the human world, nothing came out of it, there wasn’t really a boy in the carriage and burning the body didn’t have any effect on the world, other than sparing the hearts of the already struggling boys” A risky but albeit kind action where the only outcome is the remaining boys being filled with hope.  Truly an act of heavenly love.