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Xander sat on the icy curb of the street, his body curled tight against the cold. The snow had soaked through his shoes hours ago, and his toes were numb. They weren't wearing much — just a thin jacket that was ripped in multiple places. It did little to keep the freeze away. He hugged his knees to his chest, shivering uncomfortably. His tangled, dark hair was frozen in some places, the little bits of ice sparkling when seen at the right angle. Above him, holiday lights strung across the street flickered merrily, but their cheer was lost on him.
It was Christmas Eve, though the day meant nothing to Xander. They hated the season. People bustled around, carrying gifts in shiny paper, laughing, and chattering about family dinners and warm fireplaces. None of that belonged to him.
They glanced down at his hands, dirty and trembling from the cold. He hadn’t eaten since the day before, and even then, it had just been a discarded sandwich he’d found in the trash. His stomach ached, a hollow reminder of his reality. The thought of all the food that was going to get wasted tonight made their blood boil.
Xander thought about his older brother, the only family he had left. Not that it mattered much. His brother was hardly around, and when he was, their encounters were bitter and tense. Right now, he was probably holed up in some warm house, having fun with friends and eating a proper meal. Lucky bastard. And he wouldn't even bring any of the food back. Xander had stopped hoping for anything from him a long time ago.
A group of people passed by, laughing loudly, their voices cutting through the stillness of the snowy night. One of them glanced at Xander and frowned before hurrying on. He wasn’t surprised. People didn’t stop for kids like him. They didn’t care.
Somewhere down the street, there was a sound of music. Carols and christmas songs were being played while people sang and danced along. The boy hated it. They didn't need another reminder of what they have lost. Because once he had a lively family. He had a roof over his head and all the food he could dream of. The memories of past holidays filled their head — the red gift paper, smell of cinnamon and the beautiful, warm fireplace.
But those memories felt like they belonged to someone else, like a story he’d read in a book. They were so far away now.
Their thoughts were interrupted by a snowflake falling straight on their nose. The cold was getting worse, seeping deeper into his bones. He tried to stand, but his legs felt weak, and his vision blurred. They stumbled, collapsing back onto the curb.
The street was empty now, save for the snow piling up around him. Xander’s mismatched eyes stared at the distant glow of a street lamp. They hugged themself, eyes watering slightly. The weather was getting worse and worse and they had absolutely nowhere to go. None of the shops were open, so he couldn't even hide in them for a moment. He was on his own.
Their breathing slowed as the cold took hold. The snow continued to fall, covering him like a fragile, icy blanket. Somewhere in the distance, the sound of church bells rang, their melody hauntingly beautiful.
Xander closed his eyes, too tired to fight the cold any longer. The city lights blurred into nothingness, and the world around him grew quiet.
When the sun rose the next morning, the city was alive with the chatter of Christmas Day. Children played in the snow, and families gathered around warm tables. But no one noticed the small figure curled up on the curb, their dark purple hair dusted with frost, and their mismatched eyes closed with discomfort.
After all, it was just one of countless homeless people in the winter.
The half frozen boy laid unconsciously on the pavement, his lips blue from the cold. No one batted an eye untill the owner of the nearby shop came along. The older man looked at the child with disgust.
"Wake up brat, you're scaring of my customers!" he barked out.
But nothing happened.
The man came closer and touched Xander with his foot. Nothing. Upon realising the gravity of the situation, the shop owner immediately yelled for help. The previous hostility disappeared under the fear. Soon after, the kid was being rushed to a clinic.
But it didn't change much. Because as soon as Xander gets better, they will be on the streets again.
No one will care again.
And it will happen again.