Little red scarf

Let me tell you a story about a girl... A girl no one knew, but a girl who knew everyone.
A big noisy city, that goes by a name of no significance. Snow is quietly falling on the ground, while all the busy people rush as if their lives depend on it. They always rush. That's a part of their life...
Among all those people, on the ice-covered pavement sits a girl. She has rather big brown eyes, her dark locks accenting her unhealthily pale skin. Due to the cold her lips are a light shade of blue. Her tiny body is dressed in a wide coat, ridiculously long for her size, a bit jagged and quite worn. It's grey, like everybody else's. Still, in the mass of people wearing dull colours and rushing by, the child stands out. She's wearing a red scarf, also a bit too big for her. Still, it gets her noticed. Even the busy passers by see her and throw the occasional penny.
So who is this girl? No one knows. An orphan perhaps. She just sits on the sidewalk, holding a tiny cup, without saying a word. She used to say 'Thank you, kind sir' to those who dropped something in her cup or even looked at her, but not anymore. Life is too simple to be able to deceive any child. She knows that no one hears what she says. They all go back to rushing and being busy...
Another day over, the sun slowly sets. She stands up and heads to whatever she calls home. No one knows where this is. No one knows if there is such a place. Still, we'll suppose that's where she's headed. The little girl walks slowly, unlike all the other people around her. But it seems like she's taken a wrong turn... She's in a dead end alley, an unfamiliar one. She stops to listen to the sound of the wind blowing, when the strong smell of low-quality cigarettes causes her to cough uncontrollably.
'Oh, sorry, sweetie' says a voice. It's a female one, but it sounds like it's been tortured before. The child looks at the voice's source as if she recognized it. And she did. It belongs to a woman who lives in the streets, like her. After she had a baby, she became a prostitute to earn the money she needed to take care of it. She went through a lot of pain, sleeping with men with no morals and cruel behaviour, but even so, her precious child died. Ever since, she's been smoking and drinking as a way to kill her pain, which requires her to continue on with her job in order to earn the money for cigarettes and alcohol.
Without thinking, the girl hands over her earnings for the day. The skinny woman in front of her looks at her with her painfully grey eyes and her thin lips manage to move and allow her to say 'Why?'. The only answer she receives is 'It's Christmas soon, isn't it?' as the little girl with the vibrant red scarf walks away.
What the woman did later, no one knew. Maybe she used her money for more cigarettes...
The following night, the little girl heads somewhere once again. She walks slowly, but since she's tired, she prefers to look at her feet while walking... And she bumps into someone. It's a tall man with black clothing, covered in fake coal, trying to shake hands with people for a tiny profit. But no, he isn't one of these fake chimney sweepers. He's the real thing... Or at least he used to be. Electricity has been making people's lives easier every day and they finally chose it over chimneys. Simple logic can tell the dullest of men what happened to his job afterwards. He looks at the girl and smiles, shaking hands with her. 'For good luck' he says 'So you don't bump into more people'. He expects no payment, but she gives him her earnings again. Even though he tries to refuse the money, she says 'It's Christmas soon, isn't it?' .
In a few nights, she said the same thing to the baker's wife, who got kicked out of her own home by her drunken husband; the old couple of starving artists, whose children became thieves who are willing to steal by their own parents; the little twins that beg in front of the church; and the blind old lady down the street.
And soon enough, it's truly Christmas. Busy people rush by the little girl with the red scarf and throw the occasional penny. She still doesn't say thank you. And as before, no one notices. But as the sun sets, she doesn't stand up. She doesn't move anymore. Her big eyes are still open, but she doesn't see anything anymore. No one notices.
How that happened, no one truly knows. But the prostitute, the chimney sweeper, the baker's wife, the artist couple, the little twins and the old lady all say the same:

'God wanted his angel back'

I am so sorry to bother you with this uninteresting story, but I really wanted to write it out. When I got the idea, it seemed better, but I wanted to continue writing to see what you think of it. Please let me know, ok? ♥

I apologize for any typos I have made, my fingers are very cold m(__ __)m
I'll draw some sketches of the characters in this story, so stay tuned!

I was told this layout makes it difficult to read, because of the pink-ness that's going on, so I'm planning to change it. Should I keep it pink and green or use something else? Please comment and tell me!

Thank you all very much for reading my blog and supporting me, I really appreciate it!
-Sushi-tan ♥

P.S. I think my story is a bit cliche, isn't it? :/ I'm a bad writer! Are there any stories similar to this one? If so, please let me know, I don't want to unintentionally steal someone's work!