was alive

She was laying in an alley, her chest wasn't moving so he starts yelling, making sure she was alive. Making a noise proves she was alive but the noises she made were far from language.

"We should call an ambulance," says a friend. "Nope, we should call the last person she called on the cell phone underneath her leg," he retorts. Granted she is in the relatively sterile Santa Monica but a young woman like herself sprawled out in an alley with currency whipping around in the breeze is a recipe for un-good. She dials the last number called and man answers who lives a half block away.

They put her phone and forty dollars she has scattered around her in the purse resting beneath her leg. She struggles to string together confused, mumbling sentences let alone try to convey who she is and why she is sleeping in an alley. She is certainly on something but what that is unclear and irrelevant.

She couldn't talk let alone walk so he puts her arm around his shoulder and they march towards an approaching Indian guy. She mumbles something about him being friendly and he continues marching toward his apartment where he put her down and keeps walking towards the beach.

"But what if she just got done fighting with the guy?" asks a friend. "That's not our concern now," he replies and thinks to himself, 'anywhere is better then where she was.' Who knows how her story ends but she was still alive as they kept walking west.
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