this was written from a prompt and is complete fiction
|Prompt: A man found living under a bridge is locked in a mental institute, but he is not insane.
It is early in the twenty-first century, crime is up, and government is assumed to be corrupt. The out going President is not well liked and the future is unknown. In our city homelessness is running rampant. In other words, our society is breaking down, slowly.
Me? I feel like I am truly blessed as I have a good job, that pays well and I obviously live well. I had awoken this morning at the same time. As my usual routine runs, I took my shower, had a quick breakfast and ran out the door fearing I was going too late, even though I was no where near being late.
The sun had just poked up above the horizon, brining with it the reds, yellows, and all the colors a beautiful sunrise can bring, which does make for a nice and relaxing drive into the office. I love feeling the warmth of the sun on my face as I drive, the music cutting through the silence like a hot knife through butter making the trip all that much more pleasant.
It didn’t take long before I found out that people cannot really drive, no matter how much they say they can. As the sports car I drove was forced to a complete stop on the freeway due to some idiots who were proving exactly that they had no idea how to drive.
I of course was enjoying this short stop in my otherwise hectic day, as I sat there with the top down and music blasting some really great tunes, I haven’t heard in a long time. Luckier than most I was sitting near an overpass and basking in the shadow that it provided me and a select few around me.
I laid my head back and closed my eyes enjoying this weather we had here, know that I would have to keep checking the road ahead to make sure I didn’t block the traffic pattern and make the whole situation worse for everyone out here.
My attention was taken by the movement of someone along side the road. I glanced at this homeless guy walking along side the road, his clothes were stained and in shreds as he walked. It was obvious that he was homeless, probably hungry, and maybe sick. I didn’t move, just watched as this man walked to the middle of the bridge and sat down on the embankment, and just watched the cars as they sat there in the gridlock.
Unsure of what was going on up ahead of me, but I knew it must me bad as I sat in the same spot for ten minutes. And I sat there as I watched what looked like a college kid get out of the car and walk up to this man sitting there , minding his business, not even asking for handouts. The man from the car looked like he just stood there in front of this man with his back towards me, and stared at him saying nothing.
The man just sat there looking up at this young man, as if he was listening to what he had to say, but said nothing at the same time. As time went on, the young man showed signs of agitation at this man who sat there peacefully, not even opening his mouth to utter one single syllable.
I sat there trying to mind my own business, as this youngster looked a little stronger than I was, and didn’t want to incur his wrath for nothing. This simple agitation went on for a few minutes, I stayed out of it.
I don’t know why but after a few minutes the conversation began to get violent, as this young man reached out and pushed the man sitting there before him. Once the man was on the ground, the young man gave him, a swift and strong kick to the chest.
I sat there befuddled was I watched this scene playing out before my eyes.I looked around and there were others in other cars who were just as shocked that this young man would do this. I looked back at the scene unfolding before my eyes in enough time to see the young man kick the man once again.
By now the shock and horror of the scene had worn off of me, and had been replace with anger and rage, as well as compassion for this man who, due to no fault of his own, was getting beaten just because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I saw no one in any of the neighboring cars making any moves to help this man, while this young punk was beating him, while he was down.
Instantly, my mind drifted back to school when I was getting picked on by bullies. The image of some of the beatings I took at their hands flashed across my mind. Those images as shocking as they were to me brought a single tear to my eyes. That single tear burned its way down my check, till it reached my jaw line, and then moved down the jawline till it dropped off the tip of my chin. Suddenly the sadness was replaced by something else, something uncontrollable.
I got out of my car, and seemed to be the only one doing it, leaving it sit there with the flashers on. I walked over to this young bam beating on this man on the ground, approaching him from the rear. I had purpose in my steps and a power I had never felt before as I got closer and closer to this scumbag dishing out a beating.
The young man didn’t even know I was there as he raised his closed fist in an effort to punch this man on the ground, and just as he released this fist towards this man. I reached out and grabbed his arm, preventing him from doing any further damage to him.
The young man turned around, saw me and stepped into my face; his nose was a mere millimeter away from my face, his eyes locked onto mine, as mine was to his.
“What do you want little man,” he said with conviction.
“I want you to pick on someone your own size,” I returned his stare only twice as strong.
As we stared at each other, I felt a warm, almost hot breeze blow past me, pushing my hair as it past me.
“I think you need to mind your business,” the punk admonished me and poked me with his finger right on the shoulder and hard which caused me to move back at the force.
“This is my business, “ I said as I stood my ground between the man and this bully.
“Well then,” the bully said as he let out a whistle, which cause the door to the vehicle from which he came out, to open and three more muscle bound men, about the same age stepped out, ”How about me and my boys transfer this piece of craps beating to you instead?”
I stepped back a step as I realized I was alone in this, and was most probably get the beating of my life. I quickly prepared for it as the three men approached me.
“I got a better idea,” a voice from behind me said, shocking me,” How about we give you the beating you were going to give him?”
Surprised, I turned around thinking that these bullies got around behind me, only to see about four or five men standing behind me, who, in stature, looked even bigger than the ones who got out of the car.
The one, who spoke, looked down at me with such compassion in his eyes.
“Don’t worry we got your back, little man,” he said with a smile.
“And so do I,” another voice spoke from the side, who turned out to be a police officer who saw the whole thing.
Another voice echoed it. Then another spoke up, and yet another until about 50 people surrounded the whole scene, leaving the bullies no where to run. By the time that the voices stopped, the officer who witnessed the whole scene had called for reinforcements and a transport van. Fifteen minutes later all the bullies were in the van and on their way to the county lockup, under arrest. The people who gathered disappeared and I pulled my car over to the very edge of the road, and started talking.
Over time, we grew closer. We talked often about God, and what he could do for me. In fact, he knew the scripture so much, I would swear at one time or another he was a preacher of priest. I found it incredible how much he truly knew about it. I also found out that his passion was for spreading the word of God to every end of the earth.
I converted to being a Christian, shortly after this event, and never looked back.
We occasionally keep in touch. I found out that Walter, who is what his name is, was a very intelligent man. We did keep in touch over the years, but shortly I lost contact with him. I truly hope he is happy, where ever he happens to end up. After all he gave me back my happiness I once had..