I was walking down the street when I saw a man on the other side of the road. He looked like he had been in some sort of accident, so I crossed to take a closer look at him. His clothes were ripped and bloody, his face was dirty and bruised from what looked like falling on concrete, and there was blood trickling out of his mouth as he coughed up more red liquid onto the ground below him.
As I approached him, he reached out for me with one hand and muttered something that sounded vaguely like “help.” Unsure if it would be safe for me to touch this stranger or not, I called 911 instead. The operator informed me that an ambulance crew would arrive shortly; until then all I could do was wait.
I looked down at my watch and saw that it read 11:45 p.m., so the sun had already fallen, but there were still people out on the town enjoying their Friday night and going to clubs or restaurants nearby.
I felt a vibration in my pocket as an incoming call rang through from my girlfriend who wanted to know where I was, but her voice seemed muffled by what sounded like loud music coming over the line when she told me she would be home soon.
It turned out to just be background noise though since I hung up without saying anything more than “not now.” As time passed with no sign of any help arriving yet, the man began coughing again while clutching onto his chest.