THE ONE I THOUGHT I'D NEVER KISS

(Tears of Pain and Joy) A small NINE-YEAR-OLD girl is punched in the stomach by another beggar, forcing her to spill the bread from her mouth. It was a hard blow and it aggravated the pain she feels in her stomach. Street kids began to flare up when another bag of garbage was dumped by the upscale hotel along the alley where they are. They kicked each other, punched each other and pulled each other's bristles. She got down and crawled up to the bread she had spilled. It was moldy and covered with dirt. But that didn't prevent her from eating it again. It would be a waste not to. She's weak and the strength she left in her wasn't enough to tug with the kids. They were like animals, devouring a single prey. It's been days since she had her last meal. It doesn't matter if the food they eat were more like for animals rather than for humans. What matters is that something would fill their stomach and drive the pain away, even for a while. It didn't take half an hour before the leftovers were gone. She just had a small piece. That wasn't enough. Her tummy is asking for more. It's been almost a week since his boss gave her something to eat. She was one of the street children working illegally for a syndicate. They were forced to ask coins from people passing by or steal from them, in exchange for food. If they can't meet the boss's expectations, they can get nothing but tortured blows and slaps. In addition, they will have nothing to eat for some time. And running away from them means death. She separated from the group to find food in any garbage cans on the streets. She can't walk straight. Even her vision was fuzzy because of hunger. When she felt herself falling to the ground, she approached the nearest glass wall to hold onto. It was an expensive restaurant in their town. Her eyes focused on the family that was eating inside. She wanted those. Not the perfect and complete family, but the appetizing food upon the table. It looks delicious and juicy, though she can't smell those. She thought it would be a waste if the family didn't get to finish all the food. There are lots of beggars who were hungry every day, striving to survive the harsh environment of the city, but these people can spend as much as they want for a single diner. Her tongue touched her dry and dirty lips. Her throat went up and down, imagining she can have those. Her dirty little hand reached the hem of her torn shirt when her stomach started to cry out of hunger. She told her belly to shut it down, as if it was a human being. She looked back at the family table, just to meet the boy's gaze. He was the child of the family. His shirt is obviously branded that only rich people can afford. He had a gadget on his hands, too. She was sure it was worth money. If she could have it and give it to her boss, she would get a weekly food allowance. The boy got up and went wherever she is. She hides in haste on the nearest pole on the edge of this street. Sounds like he was lookin' for something. Is he looking for her? Why would he look for her anyway? Her eyes were aimed at the gadget in his hands. She took a deep breath before running toward the boy, snatching away the expensive thing. It was easy because the child is older than herself, perhaps for a few years. She fled without turning back even though she knew that men were running to catch her. It doesn't matter that they're cops. She's used to it. It was a mistake when she went into the next alley. She just found out there's no way out. That's when she saw the men chasing her. Every one of them wore black suits. Giving up is never her choice. She attempted to reach the large pipes on the wall of the building, climbing to escape. A hand of a big man reaches her even before she can go on the second floor. He carried her in the back like a bag and put her down on the dusty ground. Her tummy started to hurt again. It was excruciating. Curling up on that ground can't stop the pain she's going through. "Hey! Give back what you took, you little brat," the big fella told her. But she can't hear anything clearly. She doesn't know what the hell he's talking about. She can't hear anything but screams. He forcibly took the gadget on her hands and raised his hand to give her a slap. But the hand didn't hit her face or her body. Somebody said not to. That was the owner of the device, the kid. "Wait!" The big man lowered his hand. "I think there's no room for a new bruise on her body," the boy said as he walked towards them. That's quite right. Her awful body is full of cuts and bruises she got from the boss and from fellow street children. She's a victim of bullies but she always fights back. "Let her go. I got my phone already." He turned around and started to walking . "Ah!" He turned back once more upon hearing her scream. "Foo--od. P--please," she asks on a very low voice, almost whisper. Her eyes were shut but it didn't stop the tears from coming out. "Sir, we need to go. It was just another beggar's falsehood. Don't mind her. Your parents must be looking for you." "Buy her food." "Sir?" "Didn't you hear me? Buy her the most expensive menus," he ordered the man. He walked to the nearest pile of boxes and sat down with arms crossed. She continued screaming in pain. It feels like dying. Suddenly, she smelled something so yummy. It is just a smell but she thinks she can taste them already in her lips. Is she dead? Is she hallucinating? Is she dreaming? Ah! This must be the sweetest dream she had. "What took you so long? Give it to her already." The foods appeared in front of her. It looks like a paradise. Is she really dead? She doesn't care if she is. She doesn't care if the food was really for her. Her dirty hands grab them and put them directly in her mouth. The flavor exploded inside. The juiciness is melting in her mouth. Her tears began to fall once again. Her eyesight is blurred , not because of hunger, but because of the tears shading her pupils. For the first time in her life, she ate a non-leftover, something not from trash. For the first time, she ate a decent food. A food for a human being, reminding that she is. "Thank you," she whispered in the middle of her cry. Because her attention is focused on eating, she did not notice that the people who gave her foods were now gone. She did not even know if her gratitude was heard.