• There I was, sitting in the driver's seat of my new car. The shine of the vehicle almost blinding me with pride. I was laughing as my girlfriend in the next seat told a joke she'd tell to get me off.

    KKSSSSSSHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

    The crash happened so fast and loud that I didn't see how it started or ended but that wasn't the worst of it. I, like most of the people who knew they wouldn't be moving round the two crunched cars that took most of the busiest intersection in town, got out of my car to get a better look. That was my first mistake. The accident didn't seem so accidental after a few moments. The man from the large truck got out of his car with a purpose and stormed towards the other vehicle. He punched in the window of the driver's seat in the other car where no door was going to be opened with the Jaws Of Life. The angry, rather-drunk-looking man was pulling the female driver of the wrecked vehicle out...rather vehemently. Blood spread everywhere as she more than screamed. The noise that emanated from that woman made my eyes water in a way only heartbreak could. People screamed back, held their hands to their mouths, only I seemed to know the answer.

    I ran, my girlfriend screaming at me 'No! It's not your problem!' This hurt, this stung me to my very heart. This human being was being torn apart in front of my eyes and it's not my problem? This was not the problem of anyone around who had no soul. This WAS my problem.

    I ran, I ran straight to the man. I could clearly see that there was many men closer than I was that were much bigger, much tougher than I was but were completely motionless, as if this wasn't what all those days gym were exactly for. But that didn't stray my legs, I ran straight at the man, stopping only about three feet away screaming at the top of my lungs, 'LET THE WOMAN GO!!!'

    I could tell he was turning my direction...
    'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!'

    I didn't know what had hit me, but the pain was annihilating. I could feel every broken arm a tease to just the way my lower arm was losing feeling, the shoulder on my right arm was Pain. It hurt, it hurt as if someone had ripped there hand into my arm and torn whatever necessary parts out they could in a mere second. It was the pain of that woman's scream.

    After what seemed to be months, my vision came back and I looked back up I saw that slightly glowing, silver revolver pointed right into my eyes, I could see the cylinder shape of the barrel down from one eye and the words written on the side with the other but I could feel the explosive powder resting with a metal willing...wanting to take my life, just waiting for permission to erupt from the man who already shot me once.

    'Get the HELL away from me and leave this alone,' I almost stood and turned but he continued. '.....this isn't your problem.'

    I stood, I looked right past the gun that was now sweating with anticipation to stop my arm from hurting, 'what you are doing to this woman is horrible! No one should have to go through that! No drop her!' I leaped towards the man with a fierceness I'd never seen in anyone...not even the lovers in movies with no fear. And that's when I heard the first gunshot...

    They say that the last moment of your life that your entire life flashes before your eyes. That's wasn't true for me. For me I saw that woman, I'd never met her but the agony on her face and the exasperated looks of the crowd surrounding them flashed before my eyes. But the main object that ran before my eyes was a few words that formed the question, was it worth it?

    Was it worth it? What did this woman do that made this man hate her so? Did she murder all of his children? No...these weren't the thoughts I should be having. I should be thinking of the woman screaming back at my car, who loved me, loves me...but no, this other woman...her scream. The pain I know she felt as she was dragged across glass-skewed pavement. What in her life made her worth my life? Did she give to charity? Did she bare a child who would be the next Andrew Carnegie? But was my life worth all that? What was the length of the worth of my life? Did I deserve to get shot for some whore? Had I done enough in my life to be picky about who I die for? I gave to charity...but I never actually helped. I had been working on getting into that lifestyle but my current life was so...full...I had no time. I could feel myself cry, I wasn't sure if I actually was because I couldn't even feel the pain in my hand any...no...my arm. But there was a dampness in the drip from my eye. Was it worth it? I might not have even saved her life...I felt another tear for a second longer before I felt nothing.

    I tried.