“Help me.” He was moving for the front door before I had a chance to answer him. Before I could beg him to sit down before he passed out. Panic swirled inside of my stomach, spiraling my heart into a frenzied flush of fear and dread. As I hurried after him, I knew that it was a bad idea, but went with him anyway because he needed me. Because for the first time in his life, he had asked for help. Two words. Help me. I’d never heard them come from his mouth before and knew there was a chance I’d never hear them again, but I had to help him. I couldn’t not.
