Real Life In Fiction

Saying goodbye to her friends, she shut the door behind her, plugged herself into her iPhone and began to walk the five minutes home. 01:42am and the roads were completely empty. She didn't mind though; strange though it was, she quite enjoyed the peacefulness of a late night walk. 

The orchestral tones of Hans Zimmer's 'Aurora' playing in her ears, she made her way up the path and turned the corner into the underpass. As she entered, she could hear a faint groaning between the bars of the music. Her eyes narrowed as she spotted a figure, a man, lying face down on the floor at the end of the tunnel. Pulling her earphones out and tucking them into her pocket, she cautiously approached him. 

A phone lay smashed near his feet; coins and loose cigarettes were scattered around him and blood lay in patches on the ground at his face. This man had clearly been beaten up and left for dead, but by who she didn't know; there was nobody else around and it looked as if he had been there for a while.

Hearing the sound of heels walking towards him seemed to encourage speech and she heard two pained words struggle from his mouth; 'Help me'. Kneeling beside him she knew he was in desperate need of medical attention. Gently putting one hand under his head, she rolled him onto to his front, revealing his face to her in the one flickering light of the underpass. It was him. She couldn't breathe. It was him.

Feeling physically sick, a wave of hatred began to flood through her veins. This man had caused her so much pain; he had watched her suffer as he was suffering now, he had caused that pain! He knew it too and tears began to fall down his face; she wouldn't help him, he would die alone in this dreadful tunnel. She stood up and stared down at him, an internal struggle consuming her. She wanted to walk away, to watch him die; she hated this man with every fiber of her being. 

But she knew what she had to do, despite her hatred and her desperate want for revenge. She pulled out her iPhone and dialed three numbers on the keypad; 'Ambulance, please'.