The Problem

I was just walking home from work. I never asked to be dragged into this mess, but here I am. Just a normal girl standing in front of a dead body. Yes, I know that doesn’t sound very normal. I didn’t ask for him to grab me. I didn’t ask for him to try to hurt me. And the worst part is, he would’ve gotten away with it if he had tried to pick on any other girl walking down this street. I can’t stand people like him. There’s no reason for them to do what they do. They think they’re so tough, but taking that knife from his hand was the easiest thing I’ve ever done. And although I’m still alive, it seems like he has won the fight. I have nothing to do with his body. I’m sure my fingerprints are everywhere. Damn. I was starting to like this city. I start walking away as fast as I can without looking suspicious. Before I can get very far, however, I feel something heavy hit the back of my head. I see the ground coming toward me fast. That was the last thing I remember.