A friend and I walked home from school one day and found the front door to his house wide open. We were both around 10, so naturally we walked inside, calling out if anyone was home.. nothing.

We explored the house checking each room and each room same as the last, empty... until we got to the master bedroom.

That's when we saw his father face down, sprawled out across the bed, covered in blood nearly head to toe.

We both stood there, staring at him, completely frozen, terrified, mortified at the sight of his father's dead body. The amount of blood was more than we had seen at that age and we couldn't even begin to comprehend it.

Thoughts were racing through my mind, what do we do, do we dial 911? Do we go get help? Do we see if he's alive? That's when he rolled over, looked at us and said, "Get out here. I trying to sleep."

Turns out, as I learned later, his father worked in an emergency room and there was a horrible accident nearly 36 hours prior and he had just gotten off work. He had worked the whole time, saving lives, and was so exhausted he drove all the way home without changing and crawled into bed without thinking.

Despite the positive turnout, I'll never forget the sight of what we thought was his father's dead body covered in blood.