Horror gripped the heart of that boy as he saw his lifelong best friend fall during the riots. His friend was caught in claws of this carnival of violence, with continuous gunfires and screams hurling from all directions . There was an utter chaos whizzing over boy's head and ballade of death in front of eyes . But the boy stood, stood unfazed with just a single thought lurking in his head, what if he leap in and make his way through? He might, he just might bring his fallen friend back.
He was holding his brother's hand ,shaking and shivering with anticipation. All sweaty with threat of what might happen. “You want to go?,” asked his brother, “but i don’t think it will be worth it. Your friend is probably dead and you may throw your life away.” The brother’s advice didn’t matter, and the boy went and jumped into the death pool anyway. Miraculously he managed to reach his friend, hoist her onto his shoulder and bring her back to the safe corner of that disturbed city. As the two of them tumbled in together on the rough patch near the lamp post, the brother peeped in to check the now wounded and bleeding boy, and then looked kindly at his friend.
“I told you it wouldn’t be worth it,” he said. “Your friend is dead and you are mortally wounded.”
“It was worth it, though, my dear!,” said the boy.
“What do you mean; worth it?” retorted his brother. “Your friend is dead.”
“Yes, She is” the boy whimpered in pain. “But it was worth it because when I got to her, she was still alive and I had the satisfaction of hearing her say through her last breath, “I knew you’d come. I just knew”