It was a blinding anger, the moment he set his hands on her. It was a raging red that I felt, the moment she started to cry. I- We knew what he was doing. I didn’t like it. Nor did I try to stop it.  I wasn’t strong. And it wasn’t like I was very courageous. She was hurting, crying even but I didn’t do anything. I knew she was hurting. I knew she would have a bruise, but what can I do? I was the simple bystander, among the many that were here.

   “Hit her harder!” I heard one say, the others joining in. I joined in too, not wanting to be left behind by the crowd.  But then I realized. Was I just a bystander? Was I just part of the crowd?
 

   “Leave her alone!” I screamed, and in that moment, I saw hope fill her eyes, and I saw her look so happy. I felt the eyes piercing into my skin, a hot red that I felt, much different than what I felt earlier. It was a warm heat, not the type I liked. It felt like I had a fever, and this pressure from the glares, looks, stares, they were making me dizzy, making me hurt, making me want to curl up.

   But this pain…this pain that I will never forget, it was worth what brought it on.