Don't send the taxi to your home, if you are living alone. That might've been the smartest thing anyone had told me before I left for college. However, walking along the streets of New York City alone at night is scary in it's own way. Especially when you are a nineteen-year-old woman who lives alone. I carry a knife and pepper spray. I have taken self-defence classes and know how to take care of myself. But the fear is still there. With only two more blocks to go, I can't help but wonder how many people can safely allow a taxi driver to drop them off right in front of their door, simply because they know they are safe. Or they aren't living alone. Or they don't have to worry. I see the familiar Wong Ling Chinese food sign, and the Walgreens store, and know that I only have to cross through the alley and walk another block before I'm home.

Left foot, right foot, one in front of the other as I make my way through the dank alley. Piles of garbage and sewage line the alley way but I make sure that I stay clear.

"Help me! Please, someone help me!" An ear-piercing shriek fills the alleyway, bursting my thought bubble. The voice screams out again, and I scan the alley to try and locate the source. Suddenly, just off to my left, someone grabs my leg. "Help me, please!"

I look down, startled and see a young looking girl. Just from where I am standing, I can see that she is bleeding heavily. I crouch down next to her and realize there is a large knife blade sticking out of the girl's chest. There is no way she is going to live. There are large knife wounds in her stomach and chest, oozing blood heavily. Her throat and wrists are covered in knife wounds, and her eyes are almost lifeless. She doesn't have long to live, so I try to talk to her.

"Hey there, everything is going to be okay. My name is Clove, and I want you to nod if you can hear me," I say in my gentlest voice. The girl nods, and I pick up her head, cradling it in my lap. "What's your name?" I want her to remember my face and remember kindness and love as her last memories before death. Not the horrible bastard who ended her sweet life.

"Rue," she croaks out with a pained and hoarse voice. I smile at her so she has something to focus on. "Okay Rue, well I want you to know that everything is going to be okay, and I want you to remember your parents okay?" Rue nods, half-heartedly. She looks up towards my face, but I can tell she can't focus on my eyes. She doesn't have long. "Will you please sing?" she whispers.

Sing? I can't sing. What on earth do you sing to a dying little girl? "Deep in the meadow, under the willow
A bed of grass, a soft green pillow
Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes" as I sing this line, Rue closes her eyes.
And when again they open, the sun will rise.

Here it's safe, here it's warm
Here the daisies guard you from every harm"

Her breathing is shallow, and I know it is almost the end. I grasp the long knife handle protruding from her chest, as she takes one last breath.

"Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true
Here is the place where I love you." I plant a soft kiss on her head as she dies quietly in my lap.

It is times like these, during these ungodly, single digit hours of the night, when we all wish for simple things, like being able to allow a taxi driver to drop you off outside of your house.