I skipped down the narrow alley, my bony body barely supporting me, but I was happy because I finally got to eat. My mood was so great that the dark alleyway became vivid. The usual smoky grey color of the sky turned blue; the withering flowers became animated; the tattered brick walls became strong and sturdy.

As I bounded down the slope, I noticed a man I’d never seen before sprawled on the grey concrete next to the crumbling brick wall.

“Hey, are you okay?” I asked, concerned, as I bent down to help the man.

The man looked up, his face streaked with grime. His eyes were hopeful as he opened his mouth and spoke, “Food…”His voice sounded scratchy, as if he hadn't spoken in years.

I froze, looking down at the half-eaten bread in my right hand. I’d been so hungry, that I had taken a chunk out of it right as I got it. Nevertheless, I handed the bread to the man, thinking silently to myself, he probably needs it more than me anyway.

“Thank you…” The man whispered as he gratefully took the food, “Thank you.”

I smiled and told him that it was okay, but my stomach grumbled, complaining, hurting, having so much desire for food that it felt as if it was going to devour itself. 

This wasn’t the first time it happened, either. And each time, my stomach begged and begged me not to give the food away. 

I never listened, although I wish I had.

Summer turned into fall, green leaves turned red, the weather turned chilly, and hands turned cold. I walked into the narrow valley, my hood over my head, and my shoulders hunched. My hand gripped the warm loaf of freshly-baked bread in my pocket.

I was going to give it to the homeless man. For the past few months, I had been giving food to him every few days. He had always seemed so grateful. I didn’t know why, but I always felt a need to help others, and put their needs before mine. It was just inborn.

As I continued to walk stiffly down the alley, I got an odd feeling of dread. I shivered and told myself that it must be the weather, though I knew that was a lie. .As I approached the corner the man usually stayed in, I heard something that I was not supposed to. I quickly slid behind the wall and furrowed my eyebrows together, concentrating on the quiet conversation exchanged. I recognized one of the voices. It was the man’s.

An unknown voice muttered under his breath, “You know the girl who always gives you food?”

“Yes,” the familiar voice answered.

“Are you gonna kill her as you did with the last one?”

“Yes.”

I hardly breathed.

“Why do you even do that?”

“Because the world only needs strong people; and nice people aren’t strong.”

Anger flared inside my chest...

“That’s twisted, man,” The unknown man said.

Then I heard a snort. I inhaled lightly and pressed my lips together into a thin line. As I turned around and tried to walk back, I stepped on a crunchy leaf.

No...

My breath hitched. 

The conversation stopped, then started again. “Did you hear that?” the mysterious voice asked. 

“Who’s there?” The man shouted.

I heard a grunt, then footsteps coming my way.

Sh*t.

I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, my arms pumping. I could feel myself getting tired. Why did I even offer to help him in the first place?

I could hear the footsteps behind me become louder and louder. Rough hands grabbed my arms. My heart pounded against my chest but I took a deep breath, turned around, and looked at him, straight in the eye. 

“What do you want?” I snarled, pressing my lips together into a thin line.

The man looked at me, feigning innocence, causing me to roll my eyes internally.

“Please, can I have some food please.?” The man pleaded with alligator tears rolling down his cheek.

I snorted and rolled my eyes. “Do you really think that I’m that dumb? I heard what you said. Do you really think I care anymore? And do you really think I would rather give you - a murderer food instead of eating it myself? Huh?!”

I shook off his arm and walked away, leaving him with his mouth agape as I flipped him off.