He watched as people passed by, oblivious to his pain and suffering, at the end of the alleyway. His eyes were fixated one spot, though he could not think of why. From the corner of them, he could see his life trickle away, moving slowly in a stream and into the drain nearby.

Oh God, let me live. Let me get up and get help. He silently prayed. Funny how he should believe in God, being, as he was, an Atheist. Though, most people probably forced themselves to believe in a benevolant being at the end. Or, he thought so anyway.

The culprit had left as soon as the blade met skin. He could see it sitting a few inches from his hand.

Why can’t I move? He thought. Move, damnit!

Though, as hard as he tried, he could not move.

Shout, you idiot, shout.

Again, his efforts were in vain. Nothing seemed to work. No matter how much effort he forced into it, nothing would budge.

Then he realised what he had been staring at. His own reflection in a nearby window.

He had been dead for five minutes.