A couple of months ago as I was walking home at 2 in the morning, slightly drunk after a night out, I found a man in his mid twenties lying face down by an abandoned, broken down building. I didn´t see him on the dimly lit sidewalk until I was right in front of him.
It took me a few moments, as I was literally dumbstruck, to realise that his complete inertia meant he was in need of assistance and perhaps even medical attention. I approached him, gave out a few exclamations, crouched and shook his shoulder without him showing any response.
After a moments' hesitation I thought of checking his pulse and found none on a decidedly cold wrist. I turned him on his side and noticed that dirt and small pebbles stuck eerily to his face, his eyes were half closed and staring. I could see no wounds, only a smear of something dark enough to be
blood on his right wrist.
I went back to the road which was a few meters away and stopped the first car that came along. After hearing what I had to say
the driver lost his non-friendly skeptical look, parked his car and phoned the police on his cellphone. The police arrived shortly, took down our names and attempted to revive him until the paramedics came and continued the revival attempts for at least half an hour. Meanwhile I was asked to wait in a
police van for a detective to question me a bit further. A little while later, after the detective had questioned me briefly, I was given a ride home a few blocks away. Since my parents weren´t home yet there was no one the police could inform of said event. The police officer asked how I felt,
I said fine.
Police officer - "Did you touch any of his blood ?
Me - "No, I don't think so.
Police officer - "OK, if you need to talk to someone about this just call us at the station.
Me - "OK, thanks, bye.
I decided not to look for his obituary in the newspapers. I don´t know who he was nor his cause of death and I don't care to.