3 am; joji miller

0.1

I walked along the busy, nighttime streets of Phoenix, Arizona, taking a long drag from the last cigarette in the pack that I had bought a couple of nights ago. The embers on the end of the cigarette lit up in the deep, dark sky that was above me. I flicked the cigarette butt to the ground and dug my heel into the ground on top of it.

The lights of the cars driving along the road slowly decreased as the hour grew tired. I checked my phone, squinting at the unfamiliar bright light, seeing the time. 12:38 a.m. I pocketed the phone and continued my journey back to my small apartment in the middle of the city. When I say small, I mean small. A single bedroom, single bathroom, 800 square foot apartment. At least it has a nice kitchen. I've got to practice for the culinary arts school that I'm attending in two weeks.

A bright flash and the sound of screeching tires broke my train of thought. I look forward and see a speeding car headed in my direction. Before I could think of what to do, I find myself on the ground, covered by a stranger. The car rushes by and hits a tree that's along the sidewalk. The sound, being as close as we were, was alarmingly loud.

The stranger that potentially saved my life uncovered me, and I finally took my arms down from their position protecting my head. I stand up slowly, and look at the damage of the car crash, already flooded by people trying to see whether or not the driver and any passengers were alive.

I diverted my attention from the terrible accident, to the man standing in front of me. He never said a word to me. We blankly stared at each other for a few moments before I finally managed to find my words. "I uh...I...th..." I began, stumbling over the words that tried to escape my lips.

"Don't." He holds up a hand and looks away from me. I immediately am confused by the single, cold word that he said.

"What?" I said and cocked my head to the side. The sound of ambulances and cop cars began to grow louder as they came from the distance. A news van had also arrived at the scene.

"I'm not a hero. I don't want to be. I was just...here," he said. His voice was firm, and deep. He was taller than I was, by about five inches. He had a little bit of stubble on his chin and above his top lip. His dark hair was pushed across his forehead.

We suddenly got bombarded by the news crew. I was harshly pulled around by the camera man, who backed up so he could film. The news reporter stood beside me. "We're on the scene of an accident that just happened about five minutes ago. Here with us, we have a witness and a near victim. Ma'am, could you please tell us what happened?" The lady asked and held the microphone underneath my chin.

I took a deep breath and began to tell my story, still in shock of everything that had happened. "I was walking home and I wasn't really paying any attention to anything around me until I see bright headlights and hear the god-awful sound of screeching tires. Then next thing I know, the car crashes and I'm on the ground, thanks to..." I turn around to see the man, but he's headed in the opposite direction. He was already almost out of sight.

I turn back to the camera. "I'm so sorry, but I have to go," I say quickly, and I turn around and jog quickly, trying to catch up to him. "Hey! Wait!" I call after him, picking up the pace.

He stops in the middle of the sidewalk and as I approach him, he slowly turns around and faces me. "I just need to know one thing, why aren't you a hero? I mean you saved my life," I said between breaths. I look up into his dark eyes, focused, waiting for his response.

"I'm just not," he said coldly. He looked down at me, his gaze fixed on mine. I took a step back and let out the breath that I was holding.

"That's not stopping me from thanking you," I said and folded my arms across my chest. I put all of my weight on one foot. He huffed a small laugh and rolled his eyes. He smirked and put his hands in the pocket of his jeans.

"Get home. You probably need some rest," he said and blinked slowly. I looked back at him and once again, cocked my head.

"You should too," I said in reply and gave him a stern look, as if saying that I wasn't going to leave until he did.

"Goodnight, and be careful this time," he said. Very swiftly, he turned on his heel and began to walk away from me.

"Wait! I didn't even get your name!" I called out to him. He threw his hands out to the side and spun around.

"Just call me the anti-hero!" He called back and this time, he was the one to cock his head at me.

"No, seriously?"

He took a second. He let a deep sigh. He pointed at me as if saying he'd tell me his if I told him mine. I rolled my eyes.

"It's Rose!" I called out in defeat. "Now come on, it'll kill me all night if I don't know. I've already been too close to death tonight!"

Another sigh and an eye roll. Very classy, very rude, but very intriguing. He turned on his heel once more and began walking away again. I threw my hands to my side in frustration. Screw it. I turned away as well and began to walk away.

"George. George Miller."

I didn't bother to turn around. I just smiled to myself softly. I crossed the street to the other sidewalk and finished my walk home, this time uninterrupted.