Tim's heart shattered as he stood above the mugger. He was writhing in pain on the ground but made no sound. It was a horrifying sight to behold for a 19 year old, well, for anyone to be frank.
"No…" He muttered, "No!" The blood dripped from his fingers.
He tried focusing again, gaze fixed on the blade stuck in the chest of the mugger. His mind raced with the possibilities. Would he go to jail? Probably. If he stayed though? Definitely. "I should run."
He turned and started to speed away. But something came to mind. "Shit!" Reaching the first corner he turned back around, sprinting. He grabbed the knife still stuck in the person and pulled it out trying not to lose any momentum. He took off, blood spraying and covering the bus station.
Tim was sprinting down the streets, drunk people were waddling around and homeless people were sleeping everywhere. He still held the knife in his hand, the blood had already dried.
He had no idea where he was going, just hoping he would find his way home. Adrenaline was rushing through his veins and his blood was boiling beneath his skin. Sweat dripped down his skin into his clothes.
"Where?" He muttered, "Where do I go?" Tim did not know what to do, where to go. "Do I go home? No!" His eyes were jumping from object to object while he was running to better his depth perception at this speed, "Mom would kill me. Anna? Where does she even live?"
He kept running, not knowing what to do next. Slowly, the adrenaline wore off and so did his running speed. His sprint turned into a jog and then a walk and then… his legs gave out and he fell to the ground.
His breath became visible due to the cold before his eyes and he crawled to the side, leaning against a wall to rest. "I stabbed someone…" He muttered, his face turned towards the sky and his scalp leaning against the walls.
It was not raining, but the atmosphere and tension in the air made it feel like it should. "What am I going to do?" He did not seem very out of place where he sat. He did not get any attention from passerbys, not even the blood caught the attention of the people. All that even though he sat under a light.
He pulled out the knife from his pocket and stared at it. "I'm a monster." Tim's eyes became watery and he pushed his face into his arm crook.
"Be quiet, shit face!" Someone said.
Tim lifted his face to see who just insulted him and before him stood a 16 year old, maybe 17 year old. And "stood" is the wrong word to describe it, the boy in front of him was sitting in a wheelchair, his legs frail and thin but his arms rather fit for his age.
"The fuck you looking at?" The boy asked Tim as he noticed his gaze, "Stand up. Drop the knife— or keep it, I don't give a shit— and follow me." He turned away from Tim and just started his journey somewhere, expecting Tim to just follow him.
And Tim did. He slowly stood up before trying to hurry after the crippled boy. Taking the boys word into consideration he put the knife into a trash can he walked past while following the wheelchair.
"My name is Alex. My… Eh, friend told me to keep you in my sight, saw what you did to that bastard. You just blanked out and suddenly bolted away. I needed to call in a favor to find you. Don't do that again." Alex told him, "I would have kept the knife as a trophy. You're an idiot."
Tim looked at him bewildered. Why was he watching him? Why was this… child, so relaxed about him having stabbed someone? "My name is—"
"Tim. I know that, how else would I have found your adresse?" Suddenly Alex stopped and turned around, pointing somewhere.
Tim followed his finger and noticed for the first time in a while his surroundings. He was home. This stranger… this… this child had brought him home after having, maybe, murdered somebody.
"Thank you." Tim said and turned to walk inside.
"Ah ah ah! Not so fast." Alex stopped him and pointed at Tim's bloody fingers. "I know a place where you can change and clean up. I told your parents you are staying at a friend's house for the night when you were hit." He turned away, "Lets make it true, it would be weird to get in in the middle of the night covered in blood that does not belong to you."
Tim nodded and continued to follow the cripple.