"Hey, are you um... alright?"

I asked and cautiously approached the man, his face was on the other side, I could only see his back, tattered clothes, and his disheveled state.

"My car didn't hit you so whatever happens to you is not my concern."

When he didn't respond, I turned around to leave. Everything looks too sketchy for me to show my humanity. As I took a step away from him, I can feel his hands wrapping around my ankle as he grabbed them forcefully

In that instant, the self-defense I learned kicked in, and without giving him a moment I wiggled my foot out of his grasp and kicked him on the face.

When I turned to face the man staring at me with wide-eyes, his one hand holding his jaw where I kicked and the other his forehead which was bleeding. What startled me was how harmless he seemed, and looked young and quite handsome if not for the dirt on his face and ugly hair.

"Are you drunk? On drugs?" He didn't respond, just stared at me creepily.

Not wanting to deal with this, I once again turned to leave when his whisper reached my ears, "How was I so stupid...", more than his words, what stopped me was his tone -familiar hollowness, melancholy, and loneliness.

And that somehow infuriated me.

"If you want to die, go find someone else's car or some bridge, I don't care, stop wasting others' time."

Weren't you once like this? Why not help him? No one helped me, why should I?

Noticing the harshness in my voice, his eyes turned red and he looked at me angrily but I stood there without wincing, suddenly he stood up and yelled, "What do you know? He ruined my life that I worked hard for!"

My eyes held his angry-raging hazel ones.

I don't think I'm the right person to help him. He met the wrong person in his vulnerable state, I pity him but I'm of no use to him. Call it selfishness or whatever but a part of me doesn't want to help him, him standing in front made me think things I don't want, he reminds me of a self I hate I was.

I'm no one to say or do something for someone else.

I know what he's going through -I can see it in his eyes- that's why I don't' want to deal with this, "It's your life, do whatever you want, nothing of this concerns me."

Without giving him another look, I was once again ready to leave.

"Please help me..." His voice was barely above a whisper and I can feel that he was not particularly begging me for help, but just expressing his helplessness, hoping that someone may feel the plead in his voice and give him a hand.

And again I paused in my steps, a snicker left my lips as I turned around to face the man, way taller and built than me but pleading for help. Seeing me mocking at his state, the prior rage didn't return, he just stared at me with tears shining in his eyes -in which I could see hope slipping away and the flicker of life dimming.

If I left him here, he'll kill himself -that much I figured out. Because in moments like this, the burden of life seems way too heavy to carry than the pain of death.

"What do you want? Money?" He just stared at me with empty eyes as I continued, "How much, thousands, millions, or billions?"

He didn't respond, neither moving his eyes away from me nor showing any expressions -empty, blank.

"Tell me how much you want?" I took a step near him, my voice calm yet challenging, "What's the price of your life?"

These words made him flinch, and the tears that he held so strongly flowed down his face, and in the next moment, he fell on his knees, his head down but I still could hear his sobs. Crying out his failure, because he had no other way -at this moment, his life was nothing but as useless as what he was feeling, his life had no value, just like something that can be sold for money. But what's the point of such life, even if I helped him with money, will it be enough? No, the life he was ready to throw will be hard to attach value to, and no money can do this for him.

I moved my eyes away, and I noticed that just a few people were passing by who rarely turned to look & none stopped.

When he became quiet again, his head was ducked so I couldn't see his face. Sighing, I held firmness in my voice as I once again talked to him.

"Money will help you stand, but will you be able to rise from this?"

He stayed there motionless, "This pain, hollowness inside you, begging someone else to save you, throwing your life away if people refused to help you. No one can do this for you, no one can help you, only except yourself. " He didn't look up, but I knew he was hearing my words so I kept going.

"Or maybe...death is what you're really looking for."

"But if you don't want to try it," I took my card from the inner pocket of my blazer and bent down to place it on his hand, he still didn't look at me, "You can try money, only if you believe that you can overcome this -this darkness, which neither money nor someone else can do for you."

"Only if you once again can believe in yourself, then reach for money."

With that, I finally turned to leave, and not once turned to look at him again.

His life and decisions are in his own hands if he thinks that he can carry on his life which he considers a burden -he'll know what to chose and if not, then he'll also become one of those thousands who die every day and no one cares.

...

Days resumed their peaceful track for me, and we were finally near the launch of our project 'City' with Ming Technologies, which turned out to be the biggest success of the business year and helped open doors globally for the company. Jackson wanted to visit but the doctors didn't allow it, with four months gone, his treatment was progressing positively, a few more months and he'll be with us again, eating my brain with his words.

Kai, on the other hand, was behaving exceptionally well. I guess he took Jackson's words seriously, that's why he refrains from causing me further trouble.

"...after your last meeting with the partners of Dubai's new hotel chain, they want to finalize the contract, I'll give them the next date. And Vietnam's project of goods market report came, I checked it, and here are the details of the profit." Nayla, my secretary was briefing me over the schedule and reports of profits from other countries as I was typing on my computer while hearing her words -the workload tripled and I had no time to think about anything else.

And I would have long forgotten about a certain man who tried to kill himself via my car if not for my other hyper-active assistant, Ben, barging -not before knocking- in my office to inform me about a strange man making a ruckus that he was here to see me.

Without thinking much, I opened the CCTV footage of the reception area on my computer and it didn't take long for me to recognize him.

He chose to overcome his darkness.

I told Ben to bring him to my office, when he entered, after looking around his eyes met mine, now that he was clean I could see his looks. Dressed in worn-out jeans and shirt, he appeared quite tall, well built and his black hair was shinning, his hazel eyes and a defined-shape face, he looked fresh and handsome, completer opposite of what I saw him about a month ago.

"As you can see I'm a businesswoman and investing in something without gaining anything, how can I do such a deal. So for my money, what will I get?"

Once again he kept staring at me, and then he smiled lightly, "You know you look way young, your words and face don't really match."

Not expecting such a response, I raised a brow at him.

"Well, I have nothing to offer, or give," He shrugged, leaning against his chair, the confidence in his stance made me pause but he continued, "Except my words. Invest in me, I'll pay you ten times. And I'll not fail this time."

The conviction in his tone was quite familiar so without questioning his words, I also smiled at him.

"Deal."

This was how Elijah Cohan became a part of my life.

Elijah was raised by his father, the only parent who stayed and took responsibility for an unwanted child. He treated Elijah well & as a father raised him adequately till the age of fourteen, and after that, he too left him like his mother, they never met again. From the age of fourteen, Elijah learned to live on his own, staying in foster homes with studies he did every work he could to earn money. The money he needed to achieve his dream, his dream to be the world's top car racer.

When he turned sixteen, he started taking part in underground illegal racing, having no money, no resources this was the closest he could go to his dream and an easy source to earn money. For three years, he did everything he could, sometimes while doing races he also got caught by cops but he never lost hope and continued striving. Continued his best, all the hard work paid off one day, when a man noticed him. He gave Elijah hope, he told him that he'll sponsor him.

I think the excitement filled his mind that overcame his senses -in happiness that his dream was finally going to be fulfilled, he trusted that man blindly. For another two years, he continued to give Elijah more hope, this and that and he foolishly followed him. When the time of year's most anticipated race came, in which after participating his life could have turned, he put his all hope on that man. He gave him all his savings and trust, hoping that he'll sponsor him and provide him car & other expenses. But that man took all his money and vanished, that day Elijah stood there waiting for the man, in the hope to see his dream come true but no one came.

From the age of fourteen, all that he earned was gone just like that, and once again Elijah was left with nothing. Everything came crashing down, how he felt that time I can only assume. Everyone has their own pain, their own struggles, but one thing I can guess is that he found all doors closed, he didn't have the strength to invest further seven years even if he can, then what? The cycle will continue and he'll never have what he wants so what was the point of life?

That's when I met him, in his weakest moment. The time, when life felt too heavy to live.

And that's when he also came into my life, as a friend that I lacked.