After a long night of drumming (and all having to show for it was a cut up hand from a sharp edge of her pickle tub) all Angel had on her mind was a simple night of lying around at home. She walked slowly back to her apartment, when the quiet of the street was interrupted by a loud painful moan coming from a near by alley.
Angel looked that way and contemplated going to the rescue of the person the moan belonged to. I could just walk away and go home, it's been a long day I should get some rest. On the other hand, if I were in the alley. . . By that point she had already made up her mind. She cautiously made her way towards the direction of the continuous moans.
"Hello?" Angel asked shakily to the lump uttering slight cries every so often. She bent down next to the slumped figure. "You alright, sweetie?"
The person sitting next to Angel looked up at her warily. Angel caught a glimpse of the young man before he quickly ducked his head back down. She took his hand cautiously, he quickly pulled it away, and his head shot up and looked at her with pure shock, fear, and anger.
"What are you doing? You shouldn't have. You really fucking shouldn't have." He yelled in her face.
Angel froze. "What are you talking about? I was just trying- just trying to help you." She said lightly. She looked down at her hands; they were covered in blood, his blood. Her eyes immediately caught sight of one of her cuts. No longer were they were bleeding, but no scabs had come to cover them up yet. "Tell me what you meant." She demanded.
"You really fucking shouldn't have." Was all the man said before standing up and slowly walking away, leaving Angel sitting there thinking of the absolute worst. She didn't even realize he had left.