Our home was nestled in a transitional neighborhood where the old single-story houses from the forties and fifties were slowly being torn down.

I never imagined that carrying a six-year-old would be such a struggle. Yet here he was, snuggled peacefully on my shoulders, as if nothing in the world could harm him.

A brilliant flash of white lightning illuminated the graphite sky, followed by a thunderous boom. Wow, that was loud! I felt his little hands tighten around my neck, as if he believed I could protect him from anything. Fishing out my keys from my coat pocket, I opened the door.

The rooms of our home were the chambers of my heart; it was a gift from our late grandfather. The colors of the walls reflected my childhood, shades I had painted with joy. Every time I looked at them, I felt a sense of peace. A picture of grandpa smiled down at us from the wall—there would always be a place for him here.

The water from our clothes were dripping on the old wooden floor. The water drops leaving a trail from the main door to dimly lit living room. Putting him near to fireplace hearth I set up the log. The fire wood sprung sparks with a golden glow spreading warmth.

After drying the excess water with a towel, I wrapped him in my soft brown blanket and settled him on couch, near the fire. Desperate for a hot shower, I started to rise, but two tiny hands grasped my brown cardigan. His teary eyes and frown made it clear he didn't want me to leave.

"I'll be right back after I change, little one. Don't be scared; I promise I'll return," I said, gently prying his fingers loose and kissing his forehead before heading to my room.

After a quick shower, I changed into my warmest blue sweater and pajamas and returned to the living room with a brown sweater for him.

As soon as he heard my footsteps, he turned toward me, his gaze fixed on the sweater in my hands. "Little one, I don't have anything in your size, but we need to put something on you. You'll wear my sweater, okay?"

His face scrunched into a frown, clearly disapproving of my chunky sweater.Laughter bubbled up from my throat at his response.

"The curfew has been extended, so we'll have to manage for a few days until things get better," I added, trying to lighten the mood. He watched my face with wide eyes, as if I were delivering grave news. I slipped the brown sweater over him; it hung down to the floor, his tiny hands almost disappearing within the sleeves.

As I folded the sleeves to expose his little fingers, I noticed the horrible marks on his hands, evident that he had been tied up. My heart ached at the thought of who could be so monstrous as to inflict such pain on this innocent soul.

"Little one, did anyone tie you up? How did you get these marks?" I asked, searching his eyes for a response, hoping he might speak.

The rumble of his stomach broke my trance. With a sigh, I picked him up and wrapped him in a baby blanket.

"Seems like someone is hungry. Let's see what we can make."

I was good at baking but when it came to cooking I was pretty bad. Maybe I will rate myself 5 out of 10. Taking out the jar of chocolate chip cookies I plated them and kept it in front of him.

"You can munch on this while I try to make something for us okay"? I told him with a smile.

Fetching the flour and eggs from the shelves I placed them on counter. Dipping the cup in the sack of whole-wheat I counted three. Then I cracked three eggs whisked them and tipped them in well just like Jessica had taught me.

After a while I noticed it was too dry. It didn't look good. Remember me rating myself 5 out of 10. 5 was for efforts. Despite my efforts I had never been good cook.

Before joining military, Jessica was usually home. She cooked for both of us while I baked something but she is now at god knows what place.

With a sigh escaping my lips, I plated the pasta into his and mine. I picked up the spoon and started to eat, only to realize little one had his mouth little open with crestfallen look. With a sigh, I fed him spoon after spoon until it was all gone from his plate. Washing and cleaning the mess I made, I picked him up and climbed up the woody stairs.

I took him to Jessie's room since it was warmer, I put him on the bed. "It's time to sleep baby. "
He yawned, and I thought that maybe if he fell asleep, I could slip away. I was exhausted and just wanted to curl up in my own bed. But getting him to lie down was like trying to pull an octopus from its prey.

He wasn't satisfied until his head was down on my arm and had his hand entwined in my sweater. Minutes later, I found him asleep on my arms. I was stupid, thinking i could leave this kid alone in a room. My heart felt warm watching him sleep. He whined as I tried to pull my hands. He was clutching my sweater like someone was clutching to their lifeline.

He seemed pretty close to stranger. Was bringing him home a good decision? Yes! Yes! It was. The temperature outside might be zero. I would have felt evil if I hadn't brought him here. Giving up on going to my room I close my eyes.

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