A young couple had been arrested due to reports of illegal substance trade and abuse.

Upon inspection of their rundown home, my team and I not only found said items but also a malnourished little boy. The way his skin clung to his ribs spoke of the crime that no child should ever go through. Cuts and bruises littered his frame that I was afraid to lay a touch in the fear of breaking him.

Shrieks and cries erupted from his mouth when he was gently carried out of the property and into the care of social services. Frail hands clawed at anyone who dared to approach him as he kept shouting for release.

Multiple attempts of escape was made and after a month of trying, the boy finally managed to run away. It didn’t take long for us to find him and when we did, we saw his scrawny body in a fetal position a block away from his home. A flash of recognition took over his face when he saw us and pleaded for us not to take him away again.

He immediately sat up and shifted into a begging position as one of us took a step towards him. The way he roared the second time around was so guttural that it betrayed his frail bones.

A child psychiatrist was called in for assistance in the hopes of figuring out the reason for the boy’s actions. After an hour or so, her heeled steps rang in our direction, her face paler than that of a ghost.

What she uttered next made our stomachs drop as we felt the life drain away from our bodies.

“You need to check the backyard…”

The anticipation shrouded us in that room as if it was drowning us alive. Her brown eyes looked even more sunken as she struggled to continue her words in a tone of voice laced with so much defeat.

No amount of experience could have ever prepared us for the horror of humanity.

“They made him eat his baby brother the first time he tried to run away.”