One Christmas Eve. Empathy poem

Making my way home

Never saw them

Walking around their grouping

Evading their position cunningly to survive

Must get home for Christmas Eve

It’s getting late

So dark so eerie

I hear them following

Are they.. Following me?

I dare not look

Keep straight-keep going

Showing no imposture

Head up-chin out defiantly

Footsteps. Coming closer

Closer than that, even closer

Heart’s beating like some overworked machine

A voice

“Hey you!”

Ignoring it

Again, “hey you-you!”

Not looking round, won’t mustn’t

The voice again,

“Hey, you deaf f***er!”

Walking faster but I wont run I shouldn’t.

Suddenly

A sharp pain in my upper back

Startled!

Then another pain followed by a thud to my head

On the floor now

Shadowy figures going through my pockets

Something wet running down my back

Wetter and wetter

Is it blood?

Is it?

No. Surely not

Through the dizziness I glimpse the figures running

Running away and laughing

The cowards

I should ring for help

999 yes that’s it..

But my cell phone is not here

And my wallet containing just £10

Gone…

Feels like I've fallen into a puddle

But it hasn’t rained today

So here I lie

On Christmas Eve

In my own homemade puddle

So much blood

Can it all be mine?

“Help

Can anyone hear me?

Anyone?

Someone?

God?

Comes the night now

Darker-Darker

So quiet here

Alone

Relentless is the darkness

The tormenting hush of the night

I hear the bells of some distant church

It’ll soon be Christmas morning

But I’ll still be here.

Am I Dying?

One Christmas Eve.