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Moonlight streamed down onto the quiet village. It was a little past midnight and all was quiet in this small seaside village. The howl of the wind was the only sound heard. Well, almost the only sound.
A childs laughter peirced the silence of the night. A small girl stepped out from a dark alley into the moonlight, revealing sparkling green eyes and jet black hair. Her face was pale and her eyes were wide and haunted; this girl had seen much heartache in her life of only 12 years. Her body was thin and malnourished and she had an air of hunger about her. She wore rags, rags of what used to be a gown.
Not many of the richer citizens noticed the poverty surrounding them. This young girl was one example of the forgotten race....Street rats. They prowled the streets during the day, stealing what they could, and digging about in the gutters, desperately searching for a coin or two.
Some of the villagers were angry. They knew that without help, the street rats would die, and the sad thing was most of them were children. They helped those less fortunate, giving them clothes and food. But sadly, there were only a few of these kind citizens around and they could not help all.

(So how do you like my first post in my journal of storys? Leave comments please! heart