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I’m not a savior.

But, I save people. There's a difference. Saviors are people who stand by you through all the dark and light times. Maybe your best friend or your significant other.

I just save people. Once, then I'm done. Unless you get yourself in even more trouble. But that doesn't usually happen.

Saving people is in my DNA.

It's almost a physical need to save people. I don't have to save you, but it's like some invisible force pulls me towards you, to save you.

It's not just me though. My whole family feels this need to save. As a child, the pull isn't that intense, but by the time I was thirteen it was hard to ignore. The pull tugs on me from the time I wake up, until the time I save someone. Then it starts all over again the next day.

The good thing is though, that the older you get, the easier it is to resist the pull. My grandparents said that by the time they were fifty, the pull was almost gone. But I'm not fifty. I'm eighteen. And I've got a long way to go.

 I started saving when the pull eventually became too hard to resist. So, I started small.

My first save was a dog. It had run out onto the street. I chased it, grabbing it before it got hit by the coming car.

  In total, I’ve saved 1,825 people. One for everyday in the last five years. I count every one.

I always keep something of theirs after I save them. Sometimes it’s a hairband, or a pencil. But I never forget them.

    As the years go by, I have found it harder and harder to go out and save people. Most people who I save don’t even thank me. Why should I save somebody who doesn’t want to be saved?  But still, I have never missed chance to save anyone. Until now. . .


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