The sweat grips to my hair like a scared child to their mother’s hand. How long have I been lying here? I rack my mind for an answer but my brain is fuzzy. The warm blood that now cakes my hands also cakes my perception of time. For all I know, this torture could last forever. I’ve heard it takes two minutes. Two minutes to bleed to death.

My family did warn me about city life, and the danger that awaits you on every corner. Behind every dark crevice in this vast concrete forest, a lion will be awaiting you as if you're a helpless fawn. Suddenly a jolt of pain rolls through my body; working its way up from my stomach, to my heart, through my throat, up my spinal cord, and ending in the ringing that persists in my ears.

My hands shake as I try to keep my innards from falling out onto the street. 10 seconds. I think. Just another ten seconds until this is over. I don’t know how, but I just know I only have these few seconds left. Tears are swelling in my eyes as I cough blood onto the dark asphalt. The stab wound is numb and all I can feel is the rhythmic thumping of my punctured organs, as the blood cascades out of my jagged wound. Just 10 minutes ago I was walking towards my car. Just ten minutes ago I was fine. Then that damn mugger came and lacerated my stomach with his cheap pocket knife. He stole my wallet and phone and ran off, leaving me to die. If only I had just cooperated. Why did I put up a fight?

I groan in pain. 9 seconds left. The seconds feel like hours. Why isn't death coming sooner? Death. Dyeing.  I contemplate this for a moment before realizing what it all means. I am a dead man walking. Oh my god, I think, I'm going to die. Fear strikes through me at this realization. I'm about to die. I'm only 24! I can't die now! I whimper, hoping that if I'm loud enough someone will find me. But  it's too late for me. Even if they come, the ambulance won't be here in time.

8 seconds. My world is beginning to spin and I can feel my head going light. I replay what happened, seeing if I could have stopped this. Prevented this. But I couldn't. It was inevitable. Even if I had just given him my money, he probably would have stabbed me anyways. This was where I was meant to die, in an unknown alleyway in New York.

7 seconds. I can feel the vomit working its way up my throat, attempting to leave my body. I lurch forward as it tries to win the fight. My left hand grips the gravel as I gag and cough, blood dripping from my lips. My intestines fight my other hand as I begin to lose consciousness. 

6 seconds. I remember events so vividly. My third birthday, what I wore on my first date, my dad's funeral. Memories fly by, hidden behind conciseness. I try to grasp at them, re-live them, but the pain won’t let me escape.

5 seconds. My vision goes blurry. The sounds mute themselves as the blood begins to seep into the cracks in the pavement, feeding the hungry weeds that yearn for life. I roll onto my back, my eyes staring at the starless night sky above.

4 seconds. I hear faint voices. Some giggling. Out of the corner of my eye I see a young couple, about my age, walking down the alley.

3 seconds. I hear the shriek of the girl as my eyes roll behind my head.

2 seconds. I feel a hand on my shoulder. I force my eyes open, hoping to see death, but it's only the face of a young man. He's saying something but I can't hear him. I let out a soft groan but I can't move. It's almost over. My eyes shut again, welcoming in the darkness.

1 second. I sigh my last breath. I feel my body go heavy as the man shouts at the girl to call 911. But it's too late. I was dead 10 seconds ago.