end

I usually wouldn’t care about the life of someone else but there was something about this child. The fear in her eyes, like someone was about to whip her with a belt for not stealing enough money from other businessmen’s jacket pockets. The next thing I know I am up on my feet creeping up on this kid. I jump him. I don’t care what happens. He will not harm this child. We fall to the floor and I hit my head. I feel the heat as the blood drops down my head but I don’t care. I smack the gun away from the man's hand and the child runs to her mother. I am still wrestling the kid when the cops finally burst into the car and jump on us. I get up and look at the mother who hides her child from me and turns runs away from me screaming. As I see someone who should be thanking me look at me in disgust I am tackled as well. I am cuffed and thrown beside the kid with the gun. We are both on the floor next to each other and I am forced to look in the face of the kid I just disarmed. I didn’t think there was any way the kid could get any more scared than he was before but the kid was literally pissing himself. I am still bleeding and the train starts to spin. I pass out.
I wake up later at the police station with a blanket over me. The cuffs are no longer on my hands. An officer comes into the room where I woke up and offers me coffee. Coffee is one of the million things that I hate, but I still take it considering I have had nothing in my stomach for a while now. He explains to me that the mother eventually explained to the officers on the scene that I was actually trying to help them. This must have been after she got it through her thick skull that I rescued her daughter from getting her head blasted off by an itchy trigger finger teenager. I am released after answering a few more useless questions. They ask if I wanted to press charges myself for the cut on my head. I decline, what’s the point, ill spend it on things I probably should not be spending it on. I am freed and let on my way. It is a long walk. I for some reason am able to notice most of the people still in cuffs staring at me as I walk down the hall. “What you think you’re better than me? You’ll be right back here in a week tops!” As I hear one random punk scream this at me, I want to break every bone in his body but then I realize something. He’s right. I am no better if not worse in some cases. I reach in my pocket and the money I made earlier this morning is gone. I do not even bother to ask if the cops had seen it. they would not have given it back anyway. I am now broke and walking out into the cold world, all because of a sudden lack of judgment and rescuing a snotty child. What was I thinking? I’ll never make that mistake.