I had to wonder if if she ever considered me. I was just some loser living in a run down bungalow with no heating who happened to see her wandering into the forest as I was returning from my epic night bike ride, and offered her a room to stay in with an electric radiator. The problem was that the only reason I had extra to give was because all I did was work, I didn’t know how to be a friend for real. To me being a friend meant giving something, or listening, or pushing people to work themselves. And yes she clearly does not have a job, but I didn’t trust her. I could have. I easily could have looked past the accusation she made and chosen to beat it with care. Instead I was trigger happy. Just waiting to kick her out almost! Was that why I invited her in the first place? Or anyone else? But I had rules. No drugs. And it seemed like she was on drugs. And I had seen a meth pipe. Was it just meth? Is it that simple? But she seemed mostly believable when she said it wasn’t. But I also knew that if anyone had done it a few times, they were either addicted or a recovered addict. And she was not a recovered addict. She hadn’t even taken the first step. And she may never. So how far are you willing to go to keep someone from hurting themselves? For me, it was a female to male allegation that reminded me of courts, sheriffs, and sentences. But that was just her language. I don’t think she would actually talk to the police. But if she did, there was no proof either way. And she had yelled it out in the middle of the night. You put your hands on me! I can’t deal with that. But now who knows where she, someone’s beloved daughter, is sleeping. That’s how I saw it. This was another mans cherished angel! I could tell amidst her wounds she had been loved. I wanted to help more for him then even for her!