Well then, he made it this far in life, how much more can he do? Who is he, and what is his significance? I’ll tell you. This particular individual, he has high goals and good ambitions, but has the worst of luck. His name is where it all started- he was named Ashley. Yes, Ashley was this man’s name, and only God knows how often that must have sucked for him. The real story is that of his quest to find his true identity, and his place in this big, bad world.

Ashley was a young man, of average height, and more on the slim side. He could always blend into a crowd, not drawing attention to him. Of course it’s hard to blend in when you look like the business end of a riot baton. A drifter, life was always finding ways to kick him where it hurts.
As a child he was ejected from a car windshield, being the only one in the car crash to have any injury, for a failed seatbelt. As a teenager in high school, his senior photo for the yearbook was the school prank, so he appeared to have hair like Goldilocks, or Rapunzel. When he left for college, he somehow got accepted to the University of Idaho. But due to a professor harassing him, he dropped out.
Now, in this present time, he is in his mid-twenties, and he has wandered from Moscow, to Woodland, WA. Here he resides, or more like squatting, deep in the hills, hidden to everyone. Nobody has found his home, and nobody will.
We will begin our tale here, on a Tuesday morning, right when the sun rises to greet the world.
*****
Why are we here? Why am I here? I thought of this often, to the point where I question my sanity. This happens when I watch the sun rise, knowing people out there are having the time of their lives. I wish I could do the same. I’m hungry. Of course this camp I’ve made has what I need, except some goddamn food. Means I need to go to town. The one thing I do have is my food stamps, and enough welfare and unemployment cash to sustain myself. It tis’ a sad life, thinking about survival, instead of luxurious things, or sports. Enough with this, time to go.

Little did Ashley know that this would be the last time he would be waking up in his camp, for when he wondered back into town, events will occur to alter his life.

The morning dew, how does that get there? I don’t think anyone really cares about such nonsense. I can see the post office now, and my ever-so-valuable P.O. box, with my free government money. The looks I get in there make me uncomfortable, so my visits tend to be short. A reason why that happens is probably from my clothes. I wear a large coat I got from a army surplus store, and old pants, boots, and a army bag. I keep most of my belongings with me, just to be safe. I go in, open the box, and get my EBT card, and leave- all took about 45 seconds. I dislike the place, or more like the people in there… now, food time. Since Woodland is so homely, I can always find a friendly face when looking for food. Today, it’s McDonalds, it’s the fastest. So cheap, but I need something.

Ashley entered the place, and ordered his food. As he sat quietly in the bask of the restaurant, a shady figure walked through the door. A gut feeling Ashley had was that it might be a robbery. If he was lucky, he wouldn’t have to play hero. That was not the case here.

The shady figure, a mean-looking man walked to the counter, He stared down the cashier, before saying a word. “Give me your money, now.” He spoke softly. I felt like this wasn’t his first time, so I watched him, examining his person to see if he has any sort of weapon, anything he could use to his advantage. “I’m serious, money! Now!” screamed out of his mouth. His temper was about as short as his hair; He was bald. Somehow, I made myself invisible to him, because he hasn’t noticed me. The robber continued his campaign of screaming. I guess it was intimidating, because he had all three workers there froze up in the front of the counter. Money is what he wanted, his greed filled his voice, fueled his anger. He pulled something out of his pocket, something that made me reach for something I can use against him.
He pulled out a pocket knife, I felt my fork in my hand- my knife chose an awful time to run out on me. Now, Ashley has to be a hero. The robber is showing the blade to the cashier, saying he will harm her if he doesn’t get any dough. While he’s flinging around this blunt instrument, I spring into action. I start sprinting towards him, and jump over a table to where he was, armed only with my dirty-a** fork, and my silly name. Right at the moment I could see him, he turns around to see me, and in the blink of an eye, he stabs me in the stomach.
While I scream, the cashier reached, and hit the robber with some blunt object. That effectively stopped the robber from preforming his act of crime, as well as being conscious. He was knocked out. I’m screaming, and bleeding. I’m losing my sight and I fall to the ground, the pain is too much, too much…
****
Ashley passes out from the pain of having a knife stuck inside him. The staff at the store called the police, and the paramedics. For the workers there, the ten minutes they waited for the ambulance felt like days. They couldn’t comprehend what happened, or why anyone would do that. When they checked his wallet for some I.D, they learn his name. Ashley. They don’t know him, but they soon will, as well as the rest of the town.
*********
I woke up. You’re kidding me right?! I saw news cameras and such, I guess they think I’m some hero. The people with cameras interviewed me, asked why I did what I did, and left. All they wanted to talk about was that. Honestly, it was quite weird. Thankfully, everything is still there- I would hate to lose a limb. Of course since these people were just here, that means I might be on the tele. God knows what kind of story they might say about me. Escape is my only option, because there is no way in hell I’m paying the bill for this! They can try.

Ashley is also a known sociopath. In case you aren’t smart enough to know what that is, I’ll dumb it down for you. Ashley hates people. So the last thing he wants to is be declared hero. He is also impulsive, so his poor judgment has made him escape the hospital, tonight. It’s a terrible idea, but Ashley doesn’t have enough cash to pay this hospital bill.

All I can think about is the sheer pain in my stomach, where my stab wound is. I should have made off with some pain-killers as well, oh well, cheap whiskey will do the same thing. Right now I am a good mile from the hospital. I figured out that I’m no longer in Woodland, but rather in Portland. I surprised myself, I didn’t think I had what it takes to leave somewhere in such a big city.

He is traveling in the heart of Portland, or what he felt like the heart was, the freeway. Ashley figured that this would be the best course of action, because he was familiar with the freeway and not the streets in the town. He traveled for most of the night, walking on the side of the road, being blinded by dozens of headlights, getting yelled at from a few motorists. For some reason, he lost his common sense with his whole idea of walking on the side of a busy freeway. He truly looked like a bum. On this walk on the side of the road, Ashley was in deep thought. He was thinking about whom people saw him as, his identity. He pondered this thought the whole time he walked, because really he was nothing more than a shadow until now, a background character in someone else’s life, not important or held significance to others. The actions he took possibly changed how people saw him, maybe being a hero would be the best thing for him, but could he come to peace with that idea? He would have that night, until another unfortunate event occurred over the Glenn Jackson Bridge.

What happened to Ashley was that while he was so deep in thought, he was almost in a meditative state. So his perception was effected by this, so he didn’t see the car that was heading right for him. He didn’t hear it because the roads were so noisy, and he barely saw it from being blinded by headlights all night. It wouldn’t be the first time Ashley was hit by an automobile, but from the looks of it, it might be his last.

“Oh s***!” I yelled that when I saw the car bolt towards me, I watch it get closer, and I felt an adrenaline rush that filled my body. When the car was about a few feet from me, I jumped. I know if I jump, I won’t be sucked under the car and killed. I jumped and in a split second my legs were hit by the hood of this car, resulting in my head hitting the windshield. The car however, didn’t stop. It actually kept going and hitting the guard rail and the impact of that push me more into the car then before. The car eventually stopped, and now I could finally look at who was driving this rig. It was an old man, who I’m guessing died at the wheel; he must have been born with a lead foot too. I couldn’t move out of the car, so all I could do is crawl more into the car, and open a door and get out of here. So I pull the rest of my body into the vehicle and feel my legs catching the shattered glass, I knew I was bleeding from all sorts of places, so it didn’t faze me so much. I kept going, pulling myself with my arms to the back seat, where an un-hit door resided. With one last tug, I got the door open, and ejected myself out of the backseat onto the road. I just laid there on the asphalt, and waited for help. It started raining, and I felt the raindrops hit the back of my head. You know, it could totally be worse! Bad time to be an optimist though.

The ambulance arrived on the scene seconds after Ashley passed out, and paramedics ran towards the wounded warrior, or hobo. They looked at him and quickly looked for any severe injuries that could be life threatening, and they noticed that his leg was curved up like a question mark, so it was broken on new levels. His head was bleeding; it was all sorts of bad. He was carefully, but quickly put on the stretcher and into the back of the ambulance. One of the paramedics recognized him from watching the news, and soon realized the importance of this man. He told his colleagues who he was, and they drove as fast as they could, because they wanted to save his life.

When the ambulance arrived at the hospital, Ashley was rushed to the emergency room. He was being pushed so fast that some doctors couldn’t keep up with the rolling stretcher, almost losing control of it. The hallway was narrow, and hospital personnel kept moving out of the way of the stretcher, for it was like a bull in a china-shop in this place. The stretcher hit a wall, and Ashley’s unconscious body almost fell to the ground. A doctor caught him and flung him back on, as they neared the emergency room. Doctors were there, waiting for him, prepping for whatever had to be done to save this man. Fear could be smelled in the air, for the doctors too were alerted that this was the hero they saw on the television; the last thing they need is more pressure.
************
I awoke to the beeping of a heart rate monitor, with blinding light coming from the windows in front of me. As soon as my eyes adjusted, I examined my surroundings. Once again, I was in a hospital, to further my search, I saw that I was brought back to the same exact hospital I was in only a day earlier, in the same room as well. I know this because my bag was still on the chair in the room, along with some other articles of clothing. I waited for the doctor, while I looked around from my bed. I saw that my leg was in a cast, and from my reflection there was a good number of stiches on my head- sixteen above my right eye, and another five on my forehead. I can only imagine that there’s more on the back of my head as well. I only saw these because they shaved my head, so I looked like a new person, I looked like a stranger to myself. I could say that I am a new person now.

The doctor walked into the room and was surprised that I woke up. I was explained what happened to me, and the extent of my injuries. I had a broken leg, that almost had to be amputated, as well as a few deep gashes on my head from hitting my head on the ground, I had some broken ribs from where the car hit me at. He said that I would be in here for a while, and I will be watched so I don’t leave again. I told him that I wasn’t going to leave, I was in too much pain. That was the truth, I was hurting so bad, and I can only imagine what painkillers I’m on. “So, we also have some guests for you, Ashley” the doctor confidently said in a hefty voice. A news team came into my room and yet again interviewed me, but this time it was different. They asked who I was, instead of what I did. Apparently I’m getting a lot of attention from the media, and that I was a big story. I was unaware of this. So after they told me what’s up, as well as what I did affected them, I felt a change. I felt like I could live up this title of “hero”. Actually, I like this thought! I told them that, and they aired it.

Ashley’s story was made into a news story, and attracted the attention of national news networks. His story was a good news story, and it also influenced people in a new way. People were touched by the story, because most people have seen homeless people, but never cared to understand them. What Ashley did not only presented that he was a bad guy, but that he was indeed quite good. He saved those people from being robbed, or worse.
Weeks later, Ashley was free to leave and was greeted with more media attention. He soon got the help he needed- he was provided the things he needed, like housing, food, clothes. He was shown, and has been a guest on talk shows, showing people who he really was; showing every one of the world his true identity. Ashley was an inspiration to be good, to put others before him, and to do what is right- even if the risk is high. He is a hero.