A Boy from Us

Kingsland was caught in the worst snowstorm in twenty years. Public transportation had stopped, power outages plunged the city into darkness, and life had become a frozen nightmare. No place suffered more than Dumcrack House.

Located just outside the city by Dumbin Station, Dumcrack was a four-story, abandoned building that sheltered orphans, the homeless, and the lost. Despite fires, collapsing walls, and bedbugs, it had endured for years. But now, battered by the storm, its resilience was being tested. The wind howled through shattered windows, snow poured inside, and waterlogged beams creaked as mold spread through the damp rooms.

On the sixth day of the storm, the residents of Dumcrack, tired and cold, worked together to patch windows, empty water buckets, and fight off the relentless bugs. Crowded and hungry, they kept going, knowing they had no other choice.

Will was the oldest resident of Dumcrack. With his massive belly, a thick beard matted together with filth, and wild tufts of hair sticking out in all directions, he spent his days barking orders, acting as if he owned the place. He had long survived in Dumcrack not by strength or skill, but by intimidation—extorting what little the desperate newcomers had to offer.

And today, like every other day, he sat in his usual spot, shouting at anyone who passed by, his voice rough and grating, his presence a dark cloud over an already miserable house.

First, he turned his attention to the two newest arrivals—Tom and Hans, a pair of unfortunate townsfolk still struggling to earn their place in the house. Without giving them a moment’s rest, he barked orders, forcing them to scrub the filthy wooden floors. But no matter how hard they worked, the water dripping from the ceiling undid their efforts, turning the freshly cleaned planks back into a muddy mess. Their hands were already rough with blisters, but they didn’t dare complain. No matter how miserable this place was, it was still better than freezing to death outside.

Even Madam Mary, who was nearing eighty, struggled to keep busy—her frail fingers gripping a quilt needle pulled so close to her nose that she could see, while the other hand worked on patching up threadbare blankets.

In the midst of all this labor, Will shifted slightly on his makeshift throne and sneered.

“Hey, you flea-ridden sack of bones!” he growled at Aaron, who was still lying on the mattress. “Get off your lazy hide and do something! We’re freezing in here!”

Aaron was a frail, painfully thin child of twelve, his bones visible beneath his tattered clothes. His light brown hair was matted with grease, clinging to his forehead in tangled strands. He had escaped from the orphanage and sought refuge in Dumcrack House just three months ago.

He had managed to earn a living through tap dancing—a skill he had picked up from Antuan, a traveling musical dancer he had met along the way. Performing on the streets, he scraped together just enough coins to pay Will for a place to stay. But when the storm hit, he had spent too much time outside trying to earn money, and his body had finally given in to sickness. Wrapped in layers of patched-up blankets, he had been burning with fever for days.

Will, annoyed by Aaron’s silence, grabbed the nearest wet brush and hurled it at him.

Aaron stirred sluggishly, his frozen limbs protesting as he forced his eyes open. His vision swam. He could barely register who was yelling at him. He hadn’t eaten in days. The hunger was making his head spin.

Without waiting for a response, Will grabbed Aaron by the neck and lifted him off the ground. “Get up, you bastard! I’m talking to you!” he growled. “You think you’re special? Everyone here has to work, you’re no exception!”

From the window, a scrawny man with the marks of teenage acne still etched on his face was rolling a cigarette. “Leave the kid alone, Willy,” he said, not even bothering to look up. “Just look at him. He’s not going to make it through the night anyway—let him go.”

Will spun around, glaring at the man with fiery eyes. Then he turned back to Aaron, who looked beyond terrible. “Don’t let your death be on my hands. I don’t have time to deal with you too. Now go. Find something to eat. No one’s gonna share with you in this storm. If you’re lucky, maybe someone will feel sorry for you and give you something to eat.” With that, he kicked Aaron toward the door.

But Aaron, fighting with all his strength, struggled to stand, his body weak from fever and hunger. He finally pushed himself up, shouting, “No! You promised I could stay!”

Will scoffed. “You could stay as long as you were paying, kid. I haven’t seen a penny from you in days. You can’t stay here for free.”

Aaron’s head was spinning, his emotions tangled in anger, fever, and hunger. He clenched his fists, doing his best to control his shaking body. “Do you even know what’s going on out there? Get your fat ass off the chair and look outside! How do you expect me to make money in this storm, you idiot?”

A deep silence fell over the house. Until then, no one had ever dared to defy Will like that. Some nodded in fear, while others, in their desperation, couldn’t help but admire the courage of a child who dared to speak up. But for Will, this insult was the last straw. With a snarl, he grabbed Aaron and threw him out the door. He swung the small suitcase, which had been sitting by the edge of the sagging mattress, after him.

“Here you go. If you won’t obey me, if you won’t follow the rules, then figure it out on your own!” he spat, before turning back into the house. “Let this be a lesson to all of you. Either you do what I say, or you get out! This is how it works here!”

Aaron shook the snow off himself as he stood up. The cold burned against his skin. Honestly, he didn’t know what to do or what to say. He had never imagined things would go this far, that Will would actually throw him out into the street in the middle of winter. He had no place to go, no one to turn to. At first, he considered apologizing to Will, begging for forgiveness, even promising to pay him more than the agreed amount once the weather cleared. But his pride won out. He had already suffered enough in life, and the day he ran away from the orphanage, he swore he would never let anyone crush him again.

As everyone in the house watched through the windows, Aaron took a step forward. He locked eyes with Will. “You... You’re the biggest ass I’ve ever seen!” he shouted, before turning and running. From inside the house, the sound of stifled laughter echoed.

“You cursed child!” Will shouted, hurling a stone at Aaron’s retreating form, but he missed. Aaron was already too far away. Will was beside himself with rage. “If I ever see you around here again, I’ll rip your legs off and feed them to the dogs. I swear, I’ll kill you with my own hands!” he yelled after him.

Aaron ran for several blocks before leaning against a wall, trying to steady his breath. Each sharp breath felt like it was burning his lungs, and the wind sliced through his skin like a thousand knives. He tried to calm himself and think. Staying here meant certain death from the cold or starvation. His best chance was to head toward the city center. At least it would be more crowded there. Maybe someone would pity him and offer him some food, or perhaps he could find a basement to shelter in and warm up.

With this thought in mind, Aaron headed straight for the train station. Without enough money to buy a ticket, he sneaked around the waiting train and climbed into one of the carriages. The inside of the train was somewhat warmer. Before anyone could notice him, he quickly stripped off his wet clothes, shivering, and replaced them with dry clothes from his wooden suitcase. He felt a little better now.

He began wandering through the carriages, thinking about how he would avoid the conductor. If the conductor discovered he didn’t have a ticket, he would be thrown off immediately. Just then, a loud noise from one of the carriages caught his attention. It was a family with four children. The kids were jumping on the seats, loudly shouting while waiting for their mother to unpack sandwiches from a bag. On one side, their father, seemingly oblivious to everything, sat with his legs crossed reading the newspaper, not even bothering to glance up.

Aaron’s eyes locked onto the sandwiches. At that moment, nothing in the world seemed more beautiful than those sandwiches with ham and cheese between slices of bread. The hunger he was enduring was nearly unbearable. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had eaten.

Suddenly, Aaron was startled as a child, chewing on a piece of ham, pressed his mouth against the window and shouted loudly. The child’s face left a messy smudge on the glass, and his laughter echoed through the carriage. His siblings quickly joined in, all of them pointing and laughing at Aaron.

In the next car, three rough-looking guys in their twenties were playing cards. Aaron, knowing these kinds of people would bring trouble, didn’t hesitate and moved away immediately. He wasn’t surprised to find only two cars filled on the entire train; after all, traveling in this storm was nothing short of madness.

As he wandered through the empty cars, the conductor appeared at the end of the corridor. Aaron calmly opened the door to the next car and slipped inside. After taking a deep breath and settling down, he noticed there was someone else inside. An old man, looking weary and worn, sat there in a faded coat with peeling leather trim and pointed boots. His long hair hung loosely around his face.

“Hello,” Aaron said, his voice trembling. The old man didn’t respond, simply turning his head to look at him quietly. He gave a slight nod with his head and then resumed staring out the window. Just then, the train began to move. Both of them sat at opposite ends of the compartment, listening to the rhythmic sounds the train made as it started to roll. Aaron couldn’t help but wonder why this old man was traveling in such a storm. Maybe he, too, was heading to the city center to find something to eat or seek warmth, just like himself. He didn’t seem like someone who had a home. Aaron wanted to start a conversation, but the old man didn’t seem interested in talking. As these thoughts crossed his mind, the compartment door suddenly opened.

“Tickets, please!”