Moonchild

The icy wind howls in his ears and he tugs the tattered fabric of clothes tighter around his body, caging in warmth escaping through several holes in the coat, the fiber loosening over the course of time. New Year's joy envelops the city, lights glowing with faux alluring warmth. The sound of church bells resonates in the air, adding a cheery skip to every kid's steps. Even the darkest, murky parts of the city rejoice, singing hymns. 

Jun rubs his hands together, the wool of his gloves doing little to keep his tiny little palms warm. This city, today draped so beautifully and delicately with a pristine layer of snow, remains rotten to the core. Every corner he passes is covered in deep dirt hiding the untold tales of horror no one dares to speak of. Jun's ten-year-old frail body cowers with another gust of chilly wind.

The smell of homemade soup wafts to him as he crosses one of the houses with smoking chimneys and a little growl emerges from his unfilled belly. It has been two days since he had some solid food. His foot catches into a crack on the floor and he falls on the gravelly road. Blood trickles down his knees from the collision 

Tears well up in his eyes, maybe because of hunger, maybe because of the injury. However, a deep chill settles within his bones, an ache to feel warm within. A warm embrace, a seat by the fireplace, and being fed warm food that used to make his stomach feel fuzzy. Jun barely remembers warmth, yet when a snowflake falls on top of his open wound he giggles. 

He giggles because it's ticklish though it stings at the same time. He looks up at the grey sky, stars long hidden beneath the dense cover of fumes that threaten to choke the life out of each human. The moon stands alone in the midst of it, silently watching down upon him. He wishes the moon could have a light of its own because then it would have a warmth to it and not just a deceiving glow.

He wonders if the moon feels lonely in the boundless sky.

Jun's second day in the search of food bears failed results. He dreams of one of those New Year's dinners he sees the servants preparing in the kitchen. His nose and cheeks blush pink with the cold, the tips of his fingers numb due to the frigid temperatures. He returns back to the rusty, abandoned trailer he calls home. 

He takes off the coat and neatly folds it with delicate care as if the shredded strands have been replaced with cashmere wool. It's one of the few things to his name. Jun sits on the shabby excuse of a mattress, brings his blue-tipped hands together, and thanks every little thing that helps him survive.

He prays for better days. 

Rustling outside the trailer makes him frown, he pulls his beanie over his head and walks out into the bitter cold once again. Another small boy, merely five years of age, crouched in front of his trailer looks at him with big, twinkling eyes. The kid holds a load of bread between his tiny hands, mud smeared on his left cheek. 

He dorns a vibrant red sweater, dulled with wear and tear, and jeans that look too big to fit him. Jun hesitates, but the kid's beautiful eyes propel him forward and he greets, "Hello!"

The kid tears his loaf of bread and offers half of it to him. "For me?" Jun asks, a smile creeping up his face when the other nods eagerly and bites into his own share of bread. 

Jun crouches beside him, nibbling on the piece of bread. He pulls at his big coat, making enough space for the little one to snuggle in the warm space beside him. The kid lets out a gleeful giggle once the warmth envelopes him and it makes Jun giggle as well. 

The sound of the church bell rings louder in the air, it's a new year. 

Somewhere above in the dust-covered sky, a small star shines beside the moon, helping it carry the weight of night with it's own warmth and light.

The moon no longer hangs lonely.