She sits in the dark ally way, alone, curled up next to a rusty, old garbage bin. She is trying to keep as much heat with her as possible. Her clothes - dirty, urine stained, rags and her long, messy, tangled, black hair are the only things keeping her warm.
A stream of tears roll down her cheeks but she makes no sound as she hears shot guns and screams of worried women getting fainter and fainter. She covers her ears with her small hands and squeezes her eyes shut, recalling happy memories of family dinners. rice, fried chicken and fruit salad, a blanket for her food - and she scrapes her plate clean with a smile and a satisfied tummy. Suddenly she hears a loud rumbling noise, like a volcano about to erupt, and she is forced back to reality. Her stomach is in pain; hungry, begging to be fed.
A bright gold flashes in the thin strip of sky she can see, and it lets out a loud "bang!". Another colour flashes, this time pink, then red and green. Her dark-brown eyes widen, showing amazement and happiness for the first time in ages. The colours reflect in her eyes as her cracked lips mouth the word "fireworks".
Everything is now quiet, except for the angry shouts of drunks, far in the distance, and some jeepneys blowing their horns. All the children have gone home, safe and sound, snug in their warm beds. Laying flat on the cold ground, her skin is numb from the cold wind and she feels left out. A loud rumble comes from her stomach again as she rolls over moaning. The brick walls on either side of her are towering over her and she feels small and hopeless.
A dog hoots softly near by as she rests her eyes. Humming a tune to a song her father would always sing to her. She hears it echo down the alleyway and goes back to her dreams, where things are happy and she is safe. Living in the past, she hides from the world she lives in today.