A little boy, barely ten years old, sprinted through the dark, trash-filled alleys of the slum with a frantic expression. His tattered clothes were grimy and looked like they hadn't been washed in weeks. Swarms of flies buzzed around him, some even settling on his filthy garments, adding to the scene of neglect. He seemed desperate, running as fast as his legs could carry him, as if his very life depended on reaching his destination.

As he dashed forward, he stumbled over a rusted tin can and fell face-first onto the grimy ground. His face now smeared with dirt and refuse, he quickly pushed himself back up without bothering to clean it—his hands were just as filthy. Time was too precious to waste.

As he continued running, a group of slum children lounging nearby noticed him. They straightened up, exchanging mischievous glances before stepping into his path with mocking grins. One of them, a wiry boy with unkempt hair, took a step forward and sneered.

"Hey, Kevin, why don't you come over here and share some of that cash if you've got any?"

Kevin froze, panting heavily. All of them were beggars, children of the slum like him, and most were orphans. But their feral eyes gleamed with a sense of power as they circled him.

"I-I don't have anything," Kevin stammered, trying to move past them. "Please, let me through. I'm in a hurry."

Instead of stepping aside, the boys advanced on him, their grins widening. The leader clapped a hand on Kevin's shoulder, squeezing it hard.

"C'mon, brother. Don't you have a little time for us?" the boy taunted before yanking Kevin by the hair and dragging him forward. Kevin yelped in pain.

"Please, just let me go this time. I promise I'll bring something next time," Kevin pleaded.

The leader laughed, a cruel sound that was echoed by the others. He shoved Kevin to the ground and placed a dirty foot on his head, pressing it into the filth.

"Oh, so our little brother's in such a hurry, huh? Too busy to hang out with us?"

Another boy rifled through Kevin's pockets but came up empty-handed. "He's got nothing, boss," the boy announced, disappointed.

"Nothing?" the leader growled, pressing his foot harder against Kevin's head. "Well, if he's got nothing, why don't we take his pants, then?"

The group erupted into laughter as one of them yanked Kevin's pants off, leaving him humiliated and defenseless. They threw garbage on his body, kicking him as they mocked him.

"All right, boys. That's enough fun for today," the leader finally declared, stepping back. "Next time, Kevin, bring money—or it'll be worse."

The gang dispersed, leaving Kevin lying in the dirt. A girl watched from a cracked window in a nearby shack, giggling.

"Mama, look at him!" she called.

"What is it now?" her mother grumbled, peering outside. She frowned at the sight of Kevin, covered in filth and clutching his pants.

"See? He's so poor, I can't tell if he's wearing clothes or garbage!" the girl teased, laughing harder.

Her mother sighed and pulled her away from the window. "Stop laughing at others' misfortune. It's not right."

Kevin, his face streaked with tears, picked up his soiled pants from the gutter. Without water to clean them, he carried them as he hurried away, shame burning hotter than the tears on his cheeks. He finally found a tap, washed his pants as best he could, put them on, and resumed running.

Leaving the slum behind, Kevin stumbled onto a main road. People scolded him and even slapped him as he accidentally bumped into them, but he didn't stop to apologize. His goal was just ahead.

He skidded to a halt in front of a small private medical store. Seeing the pharmacist behind the counter, Kevin fell to his knees, sobbing.

"Please, sir. My mom is very sick—she's dying. You have to help her!" Kevin begged, tears mixing with the dirt on his face.

The pharmacist regarded him with cold indifference. "Kid, I only sell medicines. I've already given you enough at a discount. Go to a hospital."

Kevin blinked, confused. "Hospital? Where is that? I thought this was one…"

The pharmacist's lips curled into a sly smile. He saw an opportunity to exploit the boy's desperation. "Do you have money?" he asked, his tone sharp.

Kevin hesitated, his lips trembling. "I... I don't," he admitted.

The pharmacist scoffed, his expression turning harsh. "Then go to hell. Guards, throw him out!" he barked.

A burly guard grabbed Kevin by the arm and tossed him out onto the pavement. Kevin hit the ground with a cry, pleading one last time.

"Please! I'll repay you, I promise! Don't let her die…"

But the pharmacist had already retreated into his cabin, muttering to himself. "That woman's a skeleton by now anyway. Not worth the trouble."

Kevin lay on the cold ground outside, his small body shaking with sobs as the weight of his helplessness crushed him.

Unbeknownst to Kevin, the medicines the pharmacist had been giving his mother were expired.