By Carrie-Ann Hernandez

The crows haunt the front of the apartment complex I reside in, while the stray cats find spots around the front door waiting for food or for someone to rescue them.

As I peer through the cracks of the broken mini blinds, I brush my hands through my long, black hair as it falls over my face. My dark brown eyes feel heavy as I fix my gaze upon the creatures mingling at the front of my door.

'I need '�more rest!'� I try to say as I yawn. I walk over to the T.V. flip through the channels to make my mind think of something else other than the stupid pests roaming outside. After flipping through nearly one-hundred channels, going from 2 to 102 in about five minutes and coming to the conclusion that there is absolutely nothing on. I get up, grab my keys and my coat from off the floor, look outside outlining a path to my car and I am out the door.

While driving, my mind begins to wander and weird thoughts and ideas seem to appear out of nowhere. I question and reason why the creatures linger near my house '�

Are the like us? Waiting to be saved? Do they need saving? Does it even matter?

They sit in silence, in the rain, in the darkness within their souls and minds. They have restless spirits, they are wandering souls just like me. At one point I needed saving and at times I think I still do.

They seem to stand out never quite fitting in the environment that surrounds them sticking out like a sore, an unwanted parasite living off its host.

I wonder if someone sees us as parasites too, looking at us through some gigantic microscope. Poking and peering giving us tests and potions to see what makes us tick.

How odd it is to find myself equal with the lonely miserable wretches that parade outside my front door. At one time I was a lonely miserable wretch on the verge of death. Struggling with each step and breath just to hang on for that one moment for the Deus ex Machina to save my pathetic soul from the confines of hell.

Perhaps they cling to me because they know that I made it out of the traveling hell on Earth. Maybe they think I can save them too? Poor, desolate souls on the verge of oblivion. Nobody wants them. I confess that I am afraid to touch them for fear of getting sick or hurt. But the unwanted parasites fear me more, they run or fly away from me like I was death in disguise coming to claim their spirits and take them to their rightful place in the fiery pits of hell.

In the days that follow, their numbers multiply, I seem to see them everywhere as if I have the power to see all the melancholic souls that walk this forsaken planet. They follow me slowly, watching me as they wait for my next move. Do I feed them or take them to a place where they will remain forgotten?

Why make the effort? There are too many damned souls on this planet to save. I am not a super hero with super human strength or powers. I am just me. Nothing special, really. Some days I go back outside with a big bowl of food to fill them up for one day. Sometimes I just walk into my house and go about my daily routine, wondering if they are still waiting for me. Waiting to be saved.

But I am not God, or a specific god of gods or whatever you chose to believe in. Now don't give me that look, how can I save the lonely, rueful creatures of this world when I at times need saving? Selfish? I know, I have to be, I need to be. If not, then the world will just walk all over me.

Now these horrendous creatures are not as weak as they seem, they are tough and it is because they sacrifice for their survival. They go for days without food or water, eating scraps from people, going through trash cans and dumps just to find some kind of sustenance to get them through another bloody day. Disgusting, yes, but whatever works, right?

Nobody cares, it's like a plague, people do what others do; they look, they see, they never really see, and they keep on going. I wonder if your kid was hit by a car and fell into a ditch if you want some stranger to save his of her pitiful life.

I find myself remembering all the horrible things I did and I regret never doing otherwise. The cars pass right through me like they don't even see a beat up car with myself waiting to be saved.

Why didn't I save that man that night? I forgot why I was in such a hurry. The moment seems so clear now. As I take my last breath I see that if I have taken the time to save his life and maybe in return someone would be here to save mine.

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