this is based off of an article i read about a cat actually but the moral is still the same.

In the town of Risembool there lived a boy that was ugly. He wasn't very old, maybe nine or ten, but he was an orphan that lived on the streets. Even before he reached five years old, he had had a hard life. No one cared about this little boy because he was an ugly child.

At some point in his life, one of his golden eyes had been scratched out, leaving him blind in one eye; a nasty scar displaying itself across the eye and a milky blue membrane left to stare at everyone. Since he had no home due to the horrible atrocities of the Ishvalan Civil War, he was always dirty and muddy and sometimes bloody; he smelled horrible from the lack of proper hygiene. He was naked most of the time, for he had no money for clothes. But no one knew how sweet this boy could be. If only someone would give him the chance, he could show them how much love he had to offer.

He had tried many times to get someone's attention. He wanted to play with other children his age but all the children were forbidden to be with him. Once a child threw him an apple and his mother berated him for it. The boy was reduced to stealing things and the town was not kind to even a boy such as he. They did many things to him including beating, whipping, breaking bones and so forth. Yet still he yearned for someone to love him. He kept his distance, but he waited for the one kind person to show him any significance of love so that he could show that person just how much he had to give.

No one knew how infinite his love was.

One day, a young soldier came through the town and noticed the boy briefly as he begged on the streets. He was easy to see due to his golden hair and he was completely naked, holding out his hands for anyone to spare anything. He just wanted someone to show an act of kindness. That's all he wanted. The soldier wasn't near the boy to give him anything but he noticed how the people treated him. Some people kicked him over, others yelled at him, some threw things at him. With each new torture, the boy just picked himself back up and tried again. The soldier had somewhere he needed to be and soon forgot about the boy as he made his way through town to get to his destination.

That night, as he sat in the bar, the barkeeper watched him for a moment as he cleaned a glass.

"You staying here for the night or moving on out?" he asked the soldier.

"I'll probably stay the night at the inn across the way."

"Well, watch out for old Ugly. He'll rob you blind, that kid."

"What do you mean?"

"Orphaned kid that begs on the street. His real name's Edward but he's so nasty and ugly that we just call him Ugly now. He's usually naked since he doesn't have any clothes but he is a trouble maker. He steals and terrorizes the other children by trying to run up to them and touch him. He's a diseased and nasty freak; ugly."

"Why will no one take him in then? Or put him in a home?" the black haired soldier said with a curious expression.

"No one wants to go near that ugly kid!" the barkeep laughed, putting the glass up.

The soldier frowned and paid for his drink, getting up and going to the inn across the street.

The next morning when he went down for breakfast and waited for the maid, the doors opened quickly and everyone turned.

"Hey everyone! Someone finally showed old Ugly a lesson!"

"Finally! Teach that ugly little shit not to terrorize our kids!"

"And not to steal!"

"That kid was the most disgusting thing I'd ever seen. He was one ugly kid."

As the man laughed, the soldier went to the one who had burst in the door.

"Tell me what happened. Where can I find this child!"

"What would you care? He don't matter anyhow."

"Tell me what happened and where he is!" he yelled.

The man looked at him in confusion but thumbed out the door.

"He's probably on the riverbank licking his wounds like an old dog. He had a little hut there made out of newspapers and such. We usually tear it down when he's not around because it's a disgrace to- Hey!"

The soldier ran from the inn.

No one had noticed (or cared to notice) that the ones who 'taught the boy a lesson' was a rebel group of Ishvalans. They had seen Edward on the side of the road and decided to take their anger about their country out on him in any way they could. They did so many things to him. They had beaten him senseless, they stabbed him repeatedly, they even went so far as the rape him. Too shocked by this, the little boy had stayed where he was but the townspeople only glanced at his battered body by the wayside. Eventually, he found enough strength to get up and go 'home'.

The boy didn't know why he was treated the way he had been and so as he lay in his newspaper hut, he thought about the things he had wished upon. Why he was born, he didn't know because why would someone give birth to him and leave him to die? He had seen other little boys run to their parents and it ached him to see the love they had. He had seen girls and boys hold hands and also little children play together. All he had wanted was someone to just acknowledge him.

He could feel the blood oozing from his wounds and the horrible thing done to his backside was anything but comfortable. But he knew that no one would help him. He would die alone and unloved.

That ugly little boy…

"Dear god, what has been done to you?" a voice said.

The boy looked over in confusion as a face he didn't recognize looked at him from the opening in his little hut. It was the first time the boy had seen compassion. He breathed in quickly, losing his will to fight to live. He coughed and blood sprayed from his mouth. He knew that it would just add to his dirtiness and the man would leave, just like all the others did.

Except he didn't leave.

Instead, he leaned over and lightly touched the boy on the face, hoping he was still alive. The boy instantly went to shambles, tears falling from his eyes and leaving clean trails on his dirty, bloody face. The soldier looked at the boy with heartache and pain and leaned over again, putting his hands under Edward and cradling him to his chest. The boy cried harder and the soldier looked down.

"I'm sorry if I'm hurting you."

"No." Edward said, his voice scratchy from minimal use. "Thank you."

"I haven't done anything yet. I need to get you to a hospital before you bleed to death. You can thank me then."

"No…" he said, crying harder as he held onto the soldier's shirt. "Thank you for holding me."

The soldier stopped and looked down at the boy, who smiled at him as he cried.

"What do you mean?"

"You're the first person that's ever held me in their arms." He said, his smile larger.

The soldier understood now what the townspeople had not. This boy had only wanted someone to show him compassion, to show him kindness, to show him love. The heartfelt and tearful smile that the little boy was showing had so much grief and pain and sorrow.

The traveler could feel the blood of the little boy dripping from his arms and the boy grabbed a hold of the soldier's shirt tighter. Instead of pulling away, he wrapped his arms around the boy as tight as he could, hugging him with all his strength.

"I love you." The little boy said softly. "I've been saving it for someone like you."

The soldier began to cry and the little boy died.

are you wrecked yet? it wrecks me every time so you're not alone!