The university campus was alive with the usual chaos of students rushing between classes, their laughter and chatter filling the air. But for Elle Fontaine, it was all noise. Her head hung low as she hurried toward the hostel, keeping to herself as usual. The toxic environment at home had taught her that trusting people led to nothing but pain. She didn't fit in anywhere, and she was fine with it. No one needed to know about her family's problems or the secrets she kept buried deep inside. She had learned long ago that it was safer to keep her distance.
But that day—today—something was different.
As she was walking past the courtyard mindlessly without paying any heed to her surroundings and twisting her brain cells in search of solution to her endless emptiness and sufferings, a groan caught her attention. It was weak, pained, and desperate.
Elle froze. Her instincts told her to ignore it—keep walking, mind your business,because she always believed that ignoring and unseeing the absolute obvious is the ultimate guide to her survival in this world. But something in that cry stopped her in her tracks and her morals kicked in. She glanced around quickly, ensuring no one was looking, before turning her gaze back to the source of the sound.
On the ground, just beside the tree, lay a young man, groaning in pain. His silver hair was matted with blood, his clothes torn and dirty. He was barely conscious, his body battered from what looked like a brutal beating. Elle felt a twinge of fear—was this some kind of trap? Was someone else watching, waiting for her to make a move?
Trusting a person is the most difficult thing for Elle. She questions everything even a simple kind gesture. She is torn between her morals and fear.
But his cries—their desperation—pulled at her heart.
"Please… help…" His voice was barely above a whisper, hoarse from the pain. She could see the rawness in his eyes, the vulnerability that seemed to mirror her own hidden scars.
Elle's breath hitched. She didn't want to get involved, didn't want to risk the trouble, but she couldn't just leave him there. She turned her head, looking for anyone who might be around. The courtyard was strangely empty, the usual crowds having dispersed. Her heart pounded as she took a few steps closer to the man.
She knelt down, her hands shaking as she gently touched his shoulder. "Hey… are you okay?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
She looked at his bruised face, even the scars from heavy beating and blood streaming down from his wound couldn't fade the tenderness in his face. His eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, he looked confused. His pupils dilated as he stared at her. "Who… who are you?" he rasped, his voice trembling. He tried to move, but his body betrayed him, and he groaned in pain.
"I… I'm not looking for trouble," she said quickly, standing up, her fear evident in her eyes. But she couldn't just leave him like this. Despite every instinct telling her to run, she leaned over and with some difficulty, helped him sit up.
His face twisted in pain, but there was a flicker of gratitude in his eyes.
"Please… me…save me ," he muttered, clutching his side. His strength was fading fast.
Elle didn't have time to think. Her heart raced as she helped him to his feet, guiding him to the street and hailing a taxi. The driver had a shocked look in his face but didn't ask questions, just nodded and sped off toward the nearest hospital. Elle stayed by his side the entire ride, her hand never leaving his as he occasionally groaned in pain. She wasn't sure why she was doing this—why she was risking everything for a stranger. But something about him… maybe it was the way his eyes had looked at her, or maybe it was just the vulnerability he had shown, made her feel compelled to help.
The hospital was cold, sterile, and indifferent—just like Elle had always felt. She checked him in, gave his details, and then… she stayed. She sat in the corner of the room, quietly watching him as the doctors worked on him. The hours dragged on, her mind racing with questions and fears.
Eventually, the nurses cleared out, and the room fell silent. After watching the nurses leaving though the door Elle finally got out of daze because it reminded her of her mother and she went cold feet because of fear, she was in the hospital all night, her mom must have called multiple times throughout the night but she didn't pick up and now her phone is dead. She can't even call her roommate for creating alibi. Elle stood up to leave, but as she turned to go, something stopped her.
His phone. She spotted it on the table next to the bed. His belongings. Without thinking, Elle grabbed it, unlocking the device. She didn't know what she was looking for, but she had to make sure he was taken care of. She scrolled through his contacts and found a name: Cecil Dwayne.
She hesitated for a moment before calling the number. When it rang, she felt a strange sense of guilt—what if this wasn't her place? What if she was crossing a line?
The phone clicked, and a groggy voice answered on the other end. "Hello?"
"Mr.Cecil?" Elle's voice was soft but steady. "I… I found your friend. He's been hurt pretty badly. He's at the hospital."
There was a long pause, and then the voice on the other end cursed loudly. "What do you mean he's hurt?What the hell happened?And who are you? You know what never mind , I'll be there as soon as I can."
Elle hung up, leaving the room without another word. She couldn't get attached—couldn't let herself get pulled into whatever mess this was. She didn't even know his name. But she couldn't forget the look in his eyes, the silent plea for help.
... to be continued