It was a Thursday’s night thirteen years ago in an old neighborhood known as The Nor Neighborhood, where I used to live, and where part of me died.
My friends and I used to meet every Thursday in a park not so far from our houses, to go over some of the things that we took in school. We used to finish our study group early. However, that day we had to stick for more couple of hours to prepare for a math test. Therefore, we finished a little late than we usually do.
Everything started when I was heading back to my home around ten o’clock at night. I was carrying my backpack, which was full of my heavy books and a pair of apples. Half of the streetlights were burned, so the street was barley visible. Suddenly I saw three men coming out from the darkness, and they were heading toward me. I couldn’t see how they looked like when they were coming, so I wasn’t scared, but then I noticed that one of them had a knife. Therefore, I realized that something bad was going to happen. As soon as I saw the knife I started to run. However, the heavy bag was an obstacle for me, and because of the fear I couldn’t think well, so I didn’t get rid off the bag. Therefore, I couldn’t run far enough before they caught me. One of them held me and threatened me with the knife, and the others were searching my pockets and bag for money. Fear covered me and I couldn’t think of something to do, so I tried to scream for help; therefore, I got stabbed twice in the left shoulder. That was the last thing I remember before I lost conscious, because of the pain of the stabs. They took my priceless bag and left me their covered with my blood.
A half an hour later, some people found me wounded on the side of road and my blood was everywhere, so they rushed and called for an ambulance.
I woke up in the hospital’s bed, where they told me that I have lost a lot of blood, and I was going to die if they didn’t find me in the right time. I prayed and thanked God for being...