Dear diary, I have been a little bit unfair to you as I have not had the time to write down my thoughts daily, but today I am excited to put something down because I feel fulfilled. For the very first time in my life, I feel I have done something meaningful in my life.
For the past few months, I have always encountered a homeless man who wears tattered clothes that have different colored patches of fabric materials to cover the damaged part of his clothes. He has always been at the train station to always tell me good luck every day when I go to work. At first, I thought he was just being polite but later on, I realized that it is not just a nice gesture. He smiles and says his hello to me, telling me “I hope your day will be great,” like this is some sort of normal greeting for someone. I don’t know why but ever since then, he has kept coming to sit at the train station every morning until now I have become accustomed to seeing him and I even smile at the man when he tells me good luck.
Today I felt more confident about going out and then I dared to get him a cup of coffee. I gave it to him and he was appreciative. It was like the man’s presence made everything better; my confidence grew, and my work went quicker. Maybe it was just an effect of him. Whatever the case, he has become a part of my routine, even if he is only watching me leave, he makes everything look so much brighter, it makes me happy to have made such a change in myself.
Today ended up turning out to be the scariest day of my life. Work was too much for me today that I had no option but to close late so I could meet my boss' demands. I was already exhausted when I got off the train from work. Looking around for the man that wishes me good luck I realized that he wasn't sitting where he usually sits. My mood fell from exhaustion to anger and sadness. 'God! I missed him this evening, what will I do with the coconut bread I bought for him?' I thought to myself.
As I kept on walking with the other few people who came down from the train, I heard a man grunting. Looking around to locate where the sound was coming from, I saw two boys beating a man, terrified of what I saw, I screamed, "leave that man alone! " running towards them. I reached them and shoved one boy in front of the other so that they would stop but he was still hitting him harder and harder. They looked scared of me so I shouted at them again. "Leave him alone!" They both stopped, looked at me, and ran away. They were very young, maybe fifteen or sixteen years old and they were wearing black jackets.
I saw that it was the homeless man who wishes good luck every day. I was pained to see that he was badly beaten. His head was covered with blood and tears flowed from his eyes. I took his hand and held his limp hand, hoping that this might bring some relief to him. I called his name "Sir? Sir are you alright?" but he did not respond. The way he kept moving his head, he seemed unconscious. Then I remembered that there is a hospital nearby so I decided to help him. I dialed 911 on my phone while I continued to watch him as my anxiety builds up.
A few moments later, an ambulance arrived, and finally, my anxiety and tension began to dissipate as I felt relieved that my good luck homeless man will be in safe hands. Immediately this feeling of being fulfilled came over and it was over like dipping your tensed body into a hot bubbling bath.
Inspired by "Patches" by @mariannewest with freewrite community. Follow her for more prompts daily.
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