The street seemed innocent in the light of the streetlamp. Peaceful in the silence. A little bit of fog clung to the lamppost, where it cast a web of shadows on the ground below.

She retraced her steps, her heart pounding in her chest as she proceeded.

Then it came again. The noise. Closer this time. To her left.

She stopped there, frozen, while the sound echoed against the buildings around her. A small alleyway opened off the street, snaking into the dark between two buildings. Dark and empty except for a shape huddled on the ground.

It didn't move. Probably just a pile of trash.

But what if someone was hurt?

Michelle walked quicklyalmost ranto the alley entrance, her breathing heavy. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest.

It wasn't a pile of trash. It was a man lying on the ground, clutching his head. His glasses had been knocked off and smashed, and his face was covered in blood.

He groaned, the noise cutting through the foggy silence.

She rushed over to him, her adrenaline kicking in, back in work mode.

Are you OK? she asked. Can you breathe? Talk to me!

She frantically checked his pulse.

It was weak, but there.

But there was so much blood.

She pulled out her phone, dialed 9-1-1.

911. What is your emergency?

There's a man down here. He's hurt. He's bleeding. I think he's been mugged. That must be it. She didnt see any other reason for him to be in injured like this in the alley.

Can you give me your location?

Michelle stood and ran to the end of the alley to be sure she had the right cross streets. Im near the intersection of Roxboro Place and 8th Street Northwest.

Ive got police and an ambulance on their way to you, maam. Do you want to stay on the line with me? Is there any chance youre in danger?

Michelle looked around. The street was deserted. Whoever had hurt this man was long gone. No. Im fine. Ill wait for the emergency personnel. She hung up and hurried back to the man.

I've called 911. They'll be here soon. Just hold on. Her voice shook.

His brown eyes stared up at her, pleading for help. He beckoned for her to come closer. She'd done what she could. She'd called the authorities. She listened hard for the sound of sirens.

The man's eyes continued to stare up at her, imploring her to do something to help.

Michelle had to do something, anything to relieve his pain even if it was only for a moment. She slipped off her coat and folded it, easing it under his head to use as a pillow. She shivered in the cold.

What happened? she asked. Were you attacked? Mugged?