A black man in his twenties.

After 10 minutes of teetering down the street while barely making any progress, my chubby body is completely covered in sweat.
I'm so tired, so drunk... I don't think I've ever felt so sick in my entire life. Why do I have to go through this? This isn't fair. I should have just rejected my boss's 'invitation', maybe even tell him to shove it down his ass.

I chuckle at the thought of it. I don't believe even for a second that a pushover like me could ever pull such a move. But my imagination is the only refugee I have left.

"Hahh... Uuhh..." I wheeze, stopping my tracks at the entrance of a dirty alleyway. I don't think I can go any further than this. So... exhausted... Maybe I'll just rest for a little while. Yeah, that actually sounds like a fenomenal idea.

I lean on a wall and slowly let myself slide down until my fatass makes contact with the floor. Everything feels so... wet, and hot. D-Did I piss myself? I don't know. I really hope I didn't. Guess I'll see tomorrow. Now I'll just... close my eyes and...

"Uugh..." I grunt quietly. Even in my inhebriated state, my head hurts so bad I can't fall asleep.

But then I hear some steps, followed by a male voice.

"Wassup' bro? You trippin' or what?"

"......huh...?" I slightly open my tired eyes, squinting forward. Then I distinguish some baggy jeans and a pair of old red snickers 2 steps away from where I am.

The person those snickers belong to steps forward one more time and then squats in front of me until we are face to face and I can see him more clearly: he possesses ebony dark skin, some big lips, a wide nose, short dreadlocks and is wearing a dark green hoodie that seems one size too big for him. He seems to be in his twenties.

"Daaamn, you're wasted as hell, bro. Got some good shit tonight, huh?" The black man says in good spirits. He is way too close for my comfort.

"Pl-... P-Please... l-..." I try to say something, but even whispering seems like a challenge.

"Huh? Wazzat?" The other guy asks, putting a hand behind his ear.

"L-Leave m-m..."

"I can't understand shit bro!" He says way too loud. Then he suddenly starts doing something I didn't expect.
He is... touching me. Or more like he is touching my clothes, searching in my pockets. It takes more than a few seconds until my sluggish brain comes to the obvious realization, which makes the blood drain out from my face. I'm getting robbed.

"S-S-Stop..." I try to push him away, but he swats my trembling hand without any difficulty and keeps searching me out without a speck of shame.

This can't be happening, this is just a bad dream, a nightmare I'm having while peacefully sleeping in my cozy bed.
Only that this is indeed happening, I'm living it in real time. Wasted, drunk, sick... and getting deprived from my possessions in the middle of the night, and I'm too exhausted and intoxicated to even fight back. I've never felt so defenseless in my entire life.

The crook quickly finds my phone and my wallet and puts both of them inside his hoodie's front pocket. He also takes my keys for some reason, and is about to leave when he takes a glimpse of yet another thing: my mother's pendant. Of course, he doesn't think twice and immediately pulls it away from my sweaty neck.

"Pl-Please, no..." I try to protest to no avail.

The black man is already standing up in order to leave when he suddenly grabs his head with both hands.

"Ah! Aaahh! W-What the fuck?!" He yells.

And at the same time he starts yelling, I feel an intense vibration coming straight from my temples followed by a surprising ammount of heat.

"Nnnnnggggghhhh!!!" I involuntarily clench my teeth.

Right in front of me, the black man's eyes are shining with a purple light!

Then, all of a sudden, everything goes black and my consciousness fades away.