“Help Me, Don’t Let Me To Die”, Everyone Mocks Pregnant Woman In Labor Until A Homeless Man Did This
His hands were still in the shape of holding her. His arms felt empty.
The hallway suddenly felt too quiet.
He looked down at himself—mud-stained shirt, worn slippers—and for the first time since he began running, he remembered what he looked like to people.
A dirty homeless man. A man nobody trusted. A man people avoided.
But he pushed that thought away.
He stared at the theatre doors like his eyes could keep Elelliana alive.
Minutes passed like hours.
Then the doors opened.
A doctor came out wearing green scrubs and a serious expression.
Jerry’s heart jumped into his throat. He stepped forward quickly.
“Doctor, how is she?” he asked.
The doctor looked at him, scanning his clothes, then his face.
“Are you family?” the doctor asked.
Jerry shook his head, swallowing hard. “No, sir. I just brought her.”
The doctor’s face tightened. “Then we need her relative immediately. She is in critical condition. Both mother and baby are at risk.”
Jerry’s stomach turned.
He didn’t even know her name. He didn’t know who to call.
His eyes darted around, searching for an answer.
Then he noticed something on the bench where the nurses had dropped her things.
A handbag.
Elelliana’s handbag.
Jerry rushed to it and opened it with shaking hands.
Inside were a few things—wipes, a small purse, some cards he didn’t recognize, and a phone.
His hands trembled as he picked up the phone.
The screen was locked.
Jerry’s mind raced. “God help me,” he whispered.
Then a thought came quickly.
Last dialed number.
He tapped the emergency call option and found a recent call list.
One name stood out like it was shining:
My love.
Jerry didn’t waste time. He pressed it.
The phone rang once, twice, three times.
Then a deep male voice answered, sharp and worried.
“Hello, Elelliana.”
Jerry’s throat tightened.
“Sir,” Jerry said quickly, voice urgent, “I’m not Elelliana. Please listen. Your wife is in critical condition. She fell in front of a supermarket and went into labor. I rushed her to Lagos Medical Center. Please come now.”
Silence on the line felt heavy.
Then the man’s voice changed—suddenly cold and dangerous.
“What did you say?” he asked slowly.
Jerry’s heart pounded. “I said she is at Lagos Medical Center,” Jerry repeated. “Please hurry. The doctor said both mother and baby are at risk.”
The call ended immediately.
Jerry stared at the phone. His palms were sweating.
Then he heard it.
Outside the hospital, tires screeched. Not one car. Not two.
Many.
A convoy.
Jerry rushed toward the entrance and looked through the glass doors.
Black SUVs flooded into the driveway like a wave. Security men jumped out—tall and stern—scanning everywhere.
Then one man stepped out from the middle car.
He wore a clean, expensive suit. His face was hard with panic.
He looked like someone used to control. Used to power. Someone who did not beg.
But right now his eyes were wild.
He stormed toward the entrance.
And Jerry—still holding the phone—felt his stomach drop because the man looked familiar, like a face Jerry had seen on billboards, on TV, on newspapers.
The man entered the hospital like thunder. He grabbed the nearest nurse.
“Where is Elelliana?”
The nurse pointed toward the theatre hallway.
The man’s knees almost gave way.
Then his eyes landed on Jerry.
He stared.
Jerry froze because the man’s bodyguards also stared hard. One stepped forward, hand moving toward his waist like he was ready to pull something.
Jerry raised both hands slowly, fear rushing into his chest.
“I’m the one who called,” Jerry said, voice shaking. “I carried her here. I didn’t hurt her.”
The man’s eyes narrowed, trying to understand.
And in that tense moment, the doctor came out again and said words that made the whole hallway go still.
“We’re taking her for emergency surgery now, but we may have to choose who to save first.”
Jerry felt the world tilt.
The man in the suit—Johnson—looked like he might collapse.
The theatre doors swung open again as nurses rushed out, shouting, pushing a stretcher, moving too fast—
And Jerry saw blood on a glove.
His heart stopped.
Was Elelliana dying right now?
The hallway went silent. So silent Jerry could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.
The doctor’s words hung in the air like a heavy stone:
We may have to choose who to save first.
Johnson staggered back as if punched in the chest. One security man held his arm.
“No,” Johnson said, shaking his head. His voice was low but cracked. “No, you won’t choose. You will save both of them.”
The doctor’s face was calm but serious. “We will do everything we can. But she lost consciousness on arrival, and the fall may have caused complications. We need consent now.”
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