Have you ever been scared for the safety of a complete stranger? Have you changed somebody’s outlook on life just by being a Good Samaritan? Well, I have. It was a late Thursday night and I was in a bad part of town informally known as “The Knob.” I had been at a friend's house when we decided to leave to find somewhere to eat. On the way, my friend got a call from his mom telling him he had to be home. His house wasn’t really out of the way. As I pulled down Belle Avenue, towards his house, another friend of mine shouts out “Hey, pull over that guy just knocked that girl out” I instantly questioned this absurd accusation. “What? You’re joking.” As I turned around I noticed that he certainly wasn’t as I saw a middle-aged lady facedown on the pavement. Without hesitation I parked the car and we all ran over to see what was going on. You could see in the distance a man in an orange hooded jacket fleeing the scene. My friend attempted to wake this lady up. She was out cold. At this point each one of us had no idea what we should do. Obviously, the first thing we should have done was call the police, but let me remind you this was a bad part of town and didn’t know if we would be the next. Tommy, my friend, the nearest house and knocked on the door. A trashy looking man answered the door. After being informed that there was an unconscious lady in front of his house he scurried to her aid. The man then realized it was a good friend of his. Jane was her name. You could sense his anger and concern for this lady. He began to frantically ask questions. Who, what, when, where, why, how and every other sort of interrogation question was thrown our way. We described her assailant and which way he went. Evidently it was her boyfriend. At this ... ... middle of paper ... ...cy’s life on that fateful night. The man told me something along the lines of “Had we not stopped, Stacy would have lain on the ground for about 5 minutes, woken up, walked back home to Justin, and been beaten even more” Then he told me something that took me a moment to comprehend. “Stacy is pregnant and had been basically drinking herself and the baby to death. Although there is a bright side, Stacy sobered up and confessed to Justin’s abuse and now has a recovery plan and wants to start up a new life.” I can safely say that hearing the news that my friends and I altered the life for the better of a complete stranger has impacted how I live my daily life as well. Now I treat strangers differently and worry when someone acts out of the ordinary. I can’t imagine what would happen if we hadn’t stopped. I can only imagine if Stacy would even be alive at the moment.
I feel my eyes becoming heavier as the night grows longer, until the glaring front lights of a blacked out Chevrolet impala begins to cruise down the street, edging closer and closer to my house. I could hear my heart beating through my ears as the car parked itself a few metres away from my house. Out came something I’d expect to see in the movies, a man fully dressed in black with aviators covering his eyes. He left the car running as he walked along the path, maybe he had plans for an easy target, “that’s certainly not what he’s gonna get” I said to myself. I took notes of things, from his number plate “FM-5463” to how many weapons I believed he could hide within his outfit. He spent a lot of time inside my house, “What could he be doing?” I asked myself, I really didn’t enjoy the feeling of being clueless. He finally emerged, climbing back into the impala, but not before throwing a scrunched up paper ball onto the road, I knew exactly what this was, it was the note I had left him earlier. I couldn’t withhold the laughter leaving my mouth, “He knows exactly what he’s up against now” I said to myself. What did the note say you ask? it read two simple words “Try again”.
From her garden, Ms. Eldridge noticed an elderly woman at a railroad crossing, unaware of the nearing train. "All I could think about was the lady's face. She looked lost. She needed help, and she needed help right then," mentioned Ms. Eldridge in Wall Street Journal’s “Are You a Hero or a Bystander” by Sue Shellenbarger published on August 21, 2012. With the help of her determination, she sprinted to the elderly woman and pulled her out of the vehicle just in time. There was no time to contemplate ‘what ifs’ or to reconsider her decision. Even though her life could’ve been taken away along with the elder’s, she made the decision to run towards the tracks nonetheless.
On his way to town to get the sheriff, Jake comes upon Rodriguez on the road. Jake realizes who is behind his troubles, but he needs is proof. In town, Jakes meets Angela and sees Kat with Levi. A misguided confrontation ensues. Angela calls Kat out for spreading a rumor that she is pregnant. Jake punches Levi for being with Kat before he understands they are heading to the doctor’s office.
On a cold night in December, Linda, a cutthroat investment banker, was walking home late at night from her luxurious office in Houston, Texas. The night was Christmas Eve, but Linda had to work late to finish up a big deal she was closing. It was lightly snowing outside, and as Linda liked snow, she decided walking the short distance to her apartment rather than driving would be relaxing. Her husband and two children were eagerly awaiting her arrival to spend Christmas Eve together as a family. As Linda was walking, she began to have the strange feeling that someone was following her. As she looked behind her, there was one man walking a few hundred feet back on the otherwise empty sidewalk. This frightened Linda a little, and she quickened her pace slightly. The man followed suit, increasing the speed at which he was following the nervous woman. Linda wasn’t quite sure what to do; this had never happened to her before. She turned around a second time, and felt a wave of horror pass over her as she saw the mans face, dark and fierce. She also saw something in his gloved right hand, long, silver, and shining dully in the dim streetlights. Linda knew that the object was indeed a knife, and now realized that she was in serious trouble. As she rounded a street corner, she began to sprint. The mysterious man rounded the corner, looking down, and saw a pair of high heels laying in the middle of the sidewalk. As he looked up, he saw Linda running as fast as she could, her bare feet kicking up snow. The man took off after her, furious that he had let her gain so much distance between them. Linda tried to open her purse in order to use
Scott met Laci when they were both attending California Polytechnic State University in 1994. They dated for a while then decided to move in together and get married in 1997. They moved to Modesto, CA to be closer to Laci’s family where Scott spent his days selling fertilizer and Laci as a substitute teacher. Laci found out she was pregnant in 2002 with Scott’s baby but Scott was not so thrilled. Scott felt overwhelmed and that a baby would cramp his style. In the midst of what was going on at home Scott was looking for an outlet that didn’t remind him of home and started ha...
It began in the County Mall food court. Resting at one of the tables after my lunch, I casually glanced around the place. The food court wasn't crowded, and consequently I had no trouble spotting him: a tall, dark, gray-haired man. He caught my gaze, and started walking towards me. As I took in his gaunt frame, his tattered red t-shirt, and the holes in his great sweats, it dawned on me that before me stood a homeless man. Reaching my table, he asked if he could sit down with me but I declined. I wasn't in the mood to talk to him, and so mumbling a poor excuse and an apology that was probably a few octaves below any decipherable level, and not particularly caring whether the man heard me or not, I got up and walked away. The man called out after me, assuring me that he didn't want money, but rather only someone to talk to. I was rattled by his persistence, and pretending I didn't hear him I quickly walked away, my heart pounding in my chest.
It looks asthetic.” “did you even bring your camera. I guess stoping for 5 minutes wont hurt”, i respond. Jake has a deep affection to photography and he’s not wrong. My cousin is a photographer and sometimes he takes me with him when he goes on short trips. He has a blog, inspiring people with his astonihing photos. Thats how i see him as when he grows up. I turn around to check on jake but he grabs my wrist roughly and starts running. “Whats going on? Stop running”, i say suprisingly hoping for an explanation. He stops for a moment and i stop to trying to catch my breath from all that running. “Behind that bush…. The birds….”, he hesitates. “THERE’S A DEAD BODY”,he later screams. I try to stay calm but i couldnt. I just couldnt. “What do you mean theres a dead body? How? Whats going on? Lets just…. Lets just call the police”. So many questions are running through my head. I dont even know what to think anymore. I walk over to the bushes, my body shaking and whivering in fear. My eyes widen and i stood their shocked, frozen. My mind just couldnt take it in. i go back rushing to jake, grab his hand, and gallob my feet away from the forest as fast as i can. We arrive back at the entrance gate and i pull my phone out of my pocket. “What are you doing”,jake says suprised. “Im calling the police. We cant just stand their looking at a dead body and not report it”. I dial 911. “Hello Salmon-Challis police
On a dark, dreary night in Chicago, police were called to a crime scene. The policemen that were called out there did not know what exactly they were walking into. When they arrived at the dark, decrepit apartment building, they were greeted by a woman who looked like she had just been through the worst event in her life. When they found out what had happened, they now understood why she looked like she did. They asked her what had happened and she gave a detailed account of what had happened. She said "First she was just walking home one day from a long day of work, just minding her own business when she saw a strange man. She thought nothing of it and just went on her way. She them, got to her apartment and stopped for a minute and noticed
She put up the groceries and quickly went to her room and began howling in anguish, she felt horrendous for blaming her child for the death of her husband but those feelings just fueled the flame of extreme despair and sent her into even more sadness. After several hours of crying her body couldn't take it anymore and she fell asleep short after She woke up and felt as if her soul had been ripped from her body, however she stopped crying. She went to go check on Zach and the sight of him made her furious. She had always loved, cherished and taken care of Zach but after her husband died, she woke up every morning hating herself for hating her son. She grabbed the large pillow from her room that her husband bought her for her birthday, and opened the door to Zach's room carefully as to not wake him up, as she crept ever so carefully to her son's bedside she began to Hoover the large pillow over her son's face, knowing she could easily overpower him. As she lowered the pillow mere inches over his head light brown head of hair she immediately stopped and ran out of her house towards her truck, through a mess of teary eyes and loud crying she put the key in the ignition and drove off, Clara left her home and her son, not knowing when she would return. The thought that she almost smothered her son to death made her sick to her stomach. All of the thoughts
“If you look at me one more time, I’m going to slam your face into this locker.” He menaced. The gangly teenager stood in his plaid jacket with disheveled hair in front of Samuel. Samuel stood in a daze, his mouth was dry; he felt powerless to Rob. Rob was conniving, always knew what to say to get away with whatever he did. While this was going on, a nice dressed administrator walked by. He glanced at Samuel, but he had errands from the principal to meet deadlines; he didn’t stop. Rob continued to threaten him; eventually they were alone in the hall. He snatched Samuel’s hand and with a flick of his wrist twisted him around until his face made a sickening thwack against the cool dull metal of the locker. Samuel was just a boy in high school. He was bright, intelligent and every bit as kind as any person should be. However, he was slightly handicapped. When he was eight years old he developed three brain tumors. He had to have multiple surgeries to remove the tumors, but they ultimately impaired his thinking and made him slower to react. But Samuel never knew a stranger and would give...
All my life I have met many people who have left an impact on my life whether it be in sports, work, extracurriculars, or even just meeting someone you don’t know.
If only my mind could erase the face of the man who I assumed was my online friend, Brian. Either, Brian did not share his accurate information online, or the person who I had met was assumingly his father. The latter would be the excuse the 37-year-old abductor gave as an attempt to lure me to his vehicle that sat outside of the downtown bus station. As the man began to approach the far-off corner bench just outside of the bus station in the waiting area that Brian and I had specifically set as the meeting point, my heart rate accelerated as I heard the man ask, “Are you, Alfred?”. Unaware of the man’s relationship to Brian, and even more so, puzzled as to how the man knew who I was, and my meeting location, I asked if he had known Brian,
Taylor tells Clarke about his interview with Mr.McNeil, telling of his strong belief of McNeil’s innocence for both murders. When asked why he believed this to be true Taylor says “he still wore his wedding ring, a man who murdered his family and then another wouldn’t wear a ring that symbolizes the very meaning of love and companionship. We’re looking for someone else, he’s not our guy.” Clarke, Reyes split up covering different parts of the Roberts’ family home. The yard is overgrown, the roof of Mr.Roberts’ car was in desperate need of maintenance meanwhile Alison Roberts’ SUV was in pristine condition, glimmering in the sunlight. The house, beautiful, the decor; designer magazines meticulously placed, expensive modern furniture, brand new flat screen tv. However behind the curtain was water damage. “Interesting,” Clarke says, “perhaps Alison’s car is a symbol of wealth to the other parents, she drove the kids to school, perhaps the house is the
He had a need. His hunger was painful enough to drive him to madness, to commit unspeakable acts, yet he would stop at nothing cure it. It engulfed him; it made his body swell. However, from a distance I could never have noticed any of this. My roommate and I were innocently on our way home from the library late one evening when I noticed him stumbling slowly down the road. At first glance, he appeared to be more of a zombie from a scene in Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” rather than a disoriented boy on a deadly mission. His ragged white t-shirt hung loosely off of his lanky frame as he waved his arms and mumbled something incomprehensible to us as we drove by. Having lived in Charleston for the past three years, such a sight was normal for me. Since I was currently residing on Morris Street, a section of town known for being less than safe and comforting at night, I felt that the several tons of steel that surrounded us in the form of a car was definite protection from any type of danger.
Passing the waiting room on his way out of the hospital entrance, a woman calls his name. He turns to her and tries to recall if he knows her, but he has no recollection of her. "I know who you are. I know what's happening." A million questions come to his mind. "Not here," she explains. "We must go somewhere private." She leads him to her car and tells him to get in. He follows the command and slides into the passenger seat. "Please...