I was just heading home from a night of drinking with friends when I got a call from one of my buddies asking if I had received a weird text from Bob (not his real name). I check my phone and, sure enough Bob sent us a goddamn suicide note via group text message. I call Bob and he doesn't answer. Fuck it, I jog/sprint over to his apartment about a mile or so away and run up to his apartment on the 4th floor, huffing and puffing. I was about to knock, but the door was already slightly open. I call out Bob's name and nothing. His bathroom door is open. Bob is laying in the shower with his back against the wall, shower still running and both wrists slit down the river. Water mixed with Blood is pooling by the drain. I pull Bob out of the shower and wrap towels around both his arms and apply pressure. Bob isn't responsive. I check his pulse and he's alive. I call 911 and stumble through giving the emergency dispatcher Bob's address. EMTs show up and haul him off on a stretcher. Goddamn it Bob.