I arrived at my dusty doorstep, fumbling for my keys. Friday, at last! Nothing to do but eat and sleep. No stress, no quotas, no classes. Life’s all about these small moments of peace, folks.

  "Oh, wrong keys" I said out loud.

  This keychain wasn't mine. Damn, did someone take mine by mistake at the office? Urgh.

  I took a picture of the keychain and sent it to the group chat; hopefully, someone would recognize it.

  Sitting by the door and making myself comfortable, I began practicing the noble art of... patience. That's right, mindfulness. I refuse to let this tiny mishap ruin my weekend! I've been through much worse since moving here. This is nothing! Yes, I'll admit... rookie mistake. Switching keys? Come on.

  After thirty minutes, I got bored. No one had replied yet. Should I try getting in through the window or something? Twisting the knob for the seventh time, the door didn’t even budge.

  Okay, I’m not gonna lie, this is pretty annoying. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this whole positive mindset thing going on, I thought. After kicking the door once — just to let out the frustration — I sat back down and started to consider my options.

  As I was ruminating on my bad luck, two guys on a motorcycle suddenly swerved and started heading straight for me. The driver was wearing a helmet, while the second one eyed me like a hawk. Sigh, I knew that look. The one on the back hops out of the bike, pulls out a knife, and presses it against my stomach.

  "Yell and I open you up. Everything; phone, money, watch. Now. Fast"

  Come on, seriously? I complained internally. I even thought today was going to be a good day. Damn you, universe. Urgh. I'll just give him what he wants.

  "Faster. Backpack too", the one with the helmet nervously said, as I passed my belongings to the thug in front of me. They were both too skittish, constantly glancing around.

  Dude, get a job if you are going to be more scared than the victim.

  Meanwhile, the guy with the knife kept threatening me while spouting some robbery 101 sentences: "We'll kill you dude, we are not playing here, blah blah blah".

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  Yeah, these guys get a 5 out of 10. Out of all the times I’ve been robbed, this was a pretty mediocre effort.

  As I was taking off my watch, I heard a loud "bang" followed by a "whip" sound next to me. For half a second, I froze.

  Okay, now I was screwed; this was definitely a gunshot.

  You see, the thing about being robbed is that, most of the time, it's actually very simple math: you give them what they want and, generally, you get to keep your life. Just take the loss, give them your belongings, and move on.

  Now, don’t get me wrong — things can get complicated. For example, crackheads and junkies tend to be annoyingly unpredictable, so you could get unlucky there. Then there’s also the chance of those shoot-first, ask-questions-later cops showing up at the worst possible moment. Oh, and don't even get me started on the classic "getting robbed while out with your hysterical, crazy girlfriend" scenario. However, the worst dice roll, by far, is getting robbed next to a "hero". Yeah, those types.

  Guess which situation I’m in right now.

  Scared by the sound of the gunshot, robber B plunges the knife into my stomach. Surprised, his accomplice almost gets away alone, but robber B catches up. More gunshots echo through the night, and I spot my neighbor out on the street, gun in hand. The pain and the blood in my hands make my head swim as I slide down the wall, sinking to the cold floor right next to my door. Oh gosh, this hurts.

  A moment later, the guy runs in my direction.

  "Oh. Oh, shit. Okay, erm, don't worry dude, you're fine, you're fine. I called for help already, they are on their way. I hope. Fuck that's a lot of blood, but, but, don't worry! Everything's gonna be fine. My name is-"

  Yeah, the dude was panicking — not what you like to see when you have a huge chunk of metal inside you. Oh god, this hurts so bad. At least robber B didn't pull the knife.

  "What's your name?" he asked me, maybe trying to keep me awake.

  "Rio," I rasped.

  "Okay Rio, don't worry. I'll help you, okay? Oh boy, this is gonna hurt. Here I go: three, two ..."

  "Wait, sto-"

  "...ONE"

  "AAAaaarghh WHAT ARE YOU DO- aarh!!"

  There is no way, right? Is this guy trying to kill me on purpose? I mean, no one is THIS dumb, right? WHY would he pull out the knife?

  I made sure to keep looking at his face while he mumbled something and started applying pressure to the wound. Did someone hire an assassin to kill me, or is he seriously that incompetent? Urgh, what is going to happen to me now? Am I going to the hospital? Ahh, I hope I can sue this dude. I'm pretty sure I won't be able to eat food for weeks. Only soup. I hate soup. I should call my grandma. My boss too; I don't think I'll be able to make it tomorrow. No, wait... tomorrow... is Saturday, right? Will I have to request a leave of absence at Uni? My vision is getting- , oh it hurts less now. Why am I so sticky? Right, it's blood. My blood? I guess—

  .

  .

  .

  Everything turned dark.