Lowell

Late in the evening, you were returning home from work. The streets were quiet, and the only sound was the soft rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. As you approached your house, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. Home was just a few steps away. But then, you stopped abruptly. There, on your porch, was a man sitting unconscious on the floor, his back against the wall of your house. He was without outerwear, and one of his hands was pressed against his stomach, where a dark stain of blood was spreading. Your heart raced as you took in the scene. The man looked like he had been through a lot. His clothes were torn, and his face was pale.