THE PROSTITUTE

IV

"Can y-you please help me?"

I stop dead in my tracks, my feet refusing to move. I swallow hard at the befuddled voice. I stare at the road ahead, the ticket to my freedom. I know how much time I have left and I close my eyes contemplating. This is what I have slaved for the past week. My only piece of sanity that I need to hold on. If I run on my heels right now, I can catch a bus to the town and live a night. My nails drag the skin on my palm as I decide to take a step forward.

"P–please."

Fuck!

Defeated, I turn around to see a man slouched on the wall. A dark-haired man with his head hanging low and blood seeping through forehead. All the irrational thought get thrown out of the window at his sight. He was grunting and moaning in pain. He looked miserable, and it would be inhumane of me to leave him there. I step towards him, tilting my head to get a better look. I move closer near his unfolded legs and crouch down. His dark eyes meet mine, he looks like a dark and brooding prince from the stories Agatha always narrated in my childhood. The prince that saves the helpless princess. Ah! The good old days when I believed my prince will come for me. But this prince over hear needs me to save him.

I touch his bloody chin and tilt his face, the crimson liquid runs down to his beautiful jaw from his forehead. His eyes are drowsy as he tries to pry them open. I lift his seemingly good hand and place it on my shoulder blades, his fingers curl the fabric. I fix my other hand just above his hip and start to lift his torso to my height.  I tug at his heavy body unsuccessfully. Knowing there is no way I whisper into his ears.

"You need to help me help you."

He nods his head, his dark curls brushing my chin in the movement. "On the count of three." I assure.

We both try to stand up. He groans in pain and clutches his stomach while he lifts himself. He throws his head to my shoulder, my cheeks grazing the top of head. I lag him with me with heavy breaths. He is one damn heavy prince. I aim for the oak tree shade and drag him. He leans onto the wood, only in the streetlight I see the black ink that covered his skin. His eyes flutter open lazily and I quit staring at him.

"I need to check your wounds." I gently open the buttons of the blue shirt, my fingers a little trembling as I near the blooded part. On the left corner, he has a stab wounds it's not that deep. I remove his shirt and the sleeves hang on his elbows. That's when I noticed the wound just above his left pectoral. My eyes zoom in to the wound and my eyes widen at the truth. Too scared to touch the punctured hole, I mumble. "You are shot!"

This is not what I signed up for tonight. This is not working out it's the opposite of working. I need to get out of here. Leave him alone and fate will decide if he can be rescued. This is too much for me, I don't even know this guy he could be a predator for all I care. He might be the most dangerous man. Maybe the police shot him. I might do the world a favour if I get rid of him.