"Let's just drive! Come on! Let's get in the car and drive!"

I stared at my friend.

"You're crazy."

My friend had this wide eyed panic, this desperate, despairing panic. Panic that made Man sin. A fear that determined how a person truly is, inside.

"We have to get out of here! No one can know about this! No one can know or both of us will get canned. We have to get out of here before someone sees us and calls the cops!"

I began to shake my head.

"You jackass."

That got his attention. His head snapped in my direction and he stared at me, jaw dropping.

"Wha-?"

"No way in hell. I am not. No, I'm not going to leave this kid on the side of the road when he has a chance to survive. That's the same as murder!"

"Exactly! We have to leave! We can't let anyone know about this. It's a hit and run, okay? If we get away now, no way will anyone catch us-" before he could finish, I lunged at him. My fist smacked against his nose and he fell back, reeling from the force of the blow. He yelped as I kneeled next to the kid and checked his pulse. He was still alive. But bleeding pretty heavily. I fumbled for my phone. Only to find it snatched out of my pocket. I glared at my friend."Do you even know what you're saying?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" my friend yelled at me. "I'm trying to protect us!"

"And what about this kid?" I demanded. "If he dies because you left him there to, then you are a murderer, a selfish murderer who only cares about himself. You're only protecting yourself"

"Kyle-!"

I was done hearing it.

"You know what, Wilson? Drive away. Go ahead, drive away! I don't care! Get out of here and run away like the coward we both know you are!"

He did.

As he drove away like a maniac, I watched his car disappear into the darkness. I touched the kid's forehead gently, brushing his hair away from his face.

Maybe it was just me, but he looked like my little brother.

Maybe it was just that sense of deja vu.

A car, driving off into the darkness.

Leaving a little boy to die to save themself.

Yes. Deja vu.

Except, I was here. I had stayed, while my friend had driven off, taking my phone and his car with him, abandoning both of us for himself. Except, this little boy wasn't my brother. I would make sure he didn't become like my little brother, that night, six yeards ago, when someone had left him to die on the side of the street. Maybe six years ago, I would've left the scene with my brother. Maybe I would've. But I'd lived six years, six long years without my brother and I would have to live more years without him, because of some selfish dick. I didn't want to become that selfish dick. I didn't want another person's little brother die.

I was here. We would get through this together.

He wasn't alone.

And this?

It wasn't a hit and run.

Because I wasn't running.

I'm here.


If you hit someone with your car... don't run away. Especially if your victim is a child. Don't do it. There's a special place in hell just for you.