“Get the hell out of ‘ere, you rat!”

Aria was flung into a pool of mud that had formed in the alley behind a well-known restaurant in her beaten city. She would have accepted being thrown into the pool, but the relentless rain that had been showering down on the city for days simply added to the disgusting smell sticking to her skin. As her big, midnight irises stared up at the manager of the establishment, he spat at the ground beside her, and slammed the back door after saying, “Stay away from my building! If I catch you stealin’ food again, you’ll pay!”

She looked down the dark alley that was barely lit by the lights on the sides of the buildings around her, and she wanted to convince herself to find another place to find food, but it was useless. She had already been swallowed by the gloomy, night atmosphere, and caressed by the rain that eased her scalp, shoulders, back, hands, and legs. She could only cry. She tried to wipe away the tears rushing down her filthy cheeks with her muddy hands, but it was inevitable. They wouldn’t stop just like her hunger wouldn’t be quenched with just a slice bread.

At the time, Aria was nearing the age of twelve, and she was one of the survivors of the apocalypse that swept over all nations. For six years, she had survived from the help of Father Lucien—a follower of God and owner of an orphanage for kids who lost their parents to the Well of Souls. He preached peace in his many rallies within Old New York, and even sacrificed his time to nurse those on the brink of death. Still, there were complications such as food shortages within the orphanage, but Father Lucien always made up for shortcomings by giving up his share of food and not eating for days. It pained Aria to see him in that position, so she summed up her courage and chose to steal for those she held dear.

The young girl soon grew tired of the rain and scrambled up to her bare feet, walking to one of the ends of the alley to continue her search. However, just as she was about to exit the alley, she heard a moaning voice come from behind her. She faced the voice and saw a figure dressed in a trench coat at the end, sitting on the ground and leaned up against a brick building, but there was something odd about the figure. It held onto its chest while breathing heavily, and that piqued her interest.

“H-Hello…?” she softly said as a thin layer of hesitation made her voice shake.

The moaning died, but a grisly voice took its place, “H-Help me…”

When she was close enough to identify that the figure was an old man, she also noticed that his hand was over his chest that oozed chocolatey blood that warmed his palm and fingers. As if it were a stream, it continued to drip down his tattered shirt and reel over to his side near his cargo pants—just to leave his body and tap against the muddy floor. Aria gasped and hurried closer to the man, but when she was within the man’s reach, she realized the man wasn’t bleeding at all--instead it was melted chocolate on his chest and he had a crooked, yellow smile that stretched from ear-to-ear.

The man wasted no time throwing himself onto Aria. She was instantly overpowered, and forced down to the muddy floor—nearly sinking into the mud. He had laughed, which was a wicked, and grimy chuckle that could very well pass for hiccups. The young girl’s heart raced and she panicked, shouting out, “H-Hel—”

The man stuffed her mouth full of mud and mucky water before she could continue her speech, and she choked while her body throbbed in utter revulsion. When he spoke eerily, his nauseating breath crawled over her pale face, “You one of the Father’s kids, aren’t ya’? Ha, ain’t this rich! I wonder what he’d think when he learns that one of his kids are doing unjust deeds.”

Aria glared in response while hacking up the mud sticking to the walls of her mouth and tongue. The man whipped out a knife that was stashed away in his right pocket, which made Aria tense up. He sneered at the girl, “Watch those eyes, girly. Give me lip or the wrong look, and I’ll send your torso and head to the good ol’ Father.”

“W-What do you want from me?” she stared, nearly on the brink of tears.

“I just want to have a good time. It’s been a while since I’ve played with a girl your size. If you please me, I’ll let you off the hook, girly.”

He grabbed the wrists of both her arms and pressed them into the mud just above her head as he grabbed her waist, “This should be suitable for me. Even if you are a kid, you got the body of a growing teenager.”

Aria clenched her teeth at the man and struggled within his grasp. He chuckled like earlier and said, “It’s useless, girly. The hell can you do—”

She went for the only place she knew of that could be effective in her position. She used all the strength in her right leg to kick him in the nuts, and as she expected, the man reacted outrageously by dropping the knife near her head and grabbing his manhood in agony—groaning for anyone in alley or out in the street to hear. Her mind entered defensive maneuvers when she grabbed the grip of the knife, and crawled away out of his range. When she managed to stand up, the effects of her action had dulled and he was already reaching out to her.

“L-Leave me alone!” she yelled, backing away while holding the knife at the man.

His face twisted with anger as he leaped in the air, catching her off-guard and forcing her to the ground once again, but in just that second of being slammed to the ground, she blanked out and her hand moved forward—impaling the man with the knife in her hand. He was sapped of breath when the knife dug into his chest, and almost instantaneously, he died from the strike. She slipped away while staring in horror as the man bled with his mouth and eyes wide open. She had killed a man, and she wasn’t sorry for doing so.

“Father…Lucien—”

“Aria?! Is that you?!”

Father Lucien hurriedly came to Aria’s call when she entered the orphanage. He had been on stand at the entrance desk of the manor-like building. Aria stumbled forward when Father Lucien came in reach, and the groomed man kneeled to catch her. She fell to her knees without hesitation and cried until her eyes were red. Father Lucien didn’t say a word as she did so, merely caressed her by brushing away the dirt and dry mud that stuck to her hair and grazing his white gloved finger over her cheeks. When she became silent again, she spoke quietly, “Father…I have a confession…”

“I understand, Aria. Please, child, speak whatever binds your heart.”

“I…I…”

“Be easy with your speech, Aria. Let it flow, and take your time. I will be here for you.”

She took a deep breath, and said, “I killed a man, Father Lucien. He attacked me, and…I had no idea what to do!”

His expression became grim, but his voice continued to represent guidance as he softly said, “Is there anything else, child?”

“I’ve been stealing food from other people, but…I only did it for us! You barely eat, Father, and the kids are dying because there isn’t enough food to go around. I…I just wanted to—”

“Say no more, Aria,” Father Lucien gave a sad smile, and his wavy, golden hair fell over one of his hazel-green eyes when he lowered his gaze. “You have sinned, but it’s about time you learned that is the reality of human beings. We are sinners. That is just the way of life, but God looks upon those who repent, and I have faith He will ease your pain. You aren’t in the wrong for supporting those you love, but by living in this twisted world abandoned by light, you have no choice but to get your hands dirty. You have my gratitude, Aria, for passing out food to the kids and sometimes not even eating yourself, but I want you to stop. I will not let you carry that burden. It can only be mine.”

“But, Father Lucien…” she stared with worry, realizing how his face was drained of color. “You can barely last yourself. Let me help you!”

“No, child,” he flashed his white smile at her, and held her cheeks. “An adult must bleed for the young ones. So, no matter how many meals I may skip, it’ll be nothing compared to the loss of one of my children. I don’t want to lose you either, Aria. You may be troubled, but you are still a part of my family.”

“I’m sorry, Father Lucien,” she hugged the man. “I’m so sorry…”

“No, it is I that is sorry, Aria,” he furrowed his brows.

I can’t protect any of you.