Sometimes the cuts that need healing cannot be seen

So the last bunch of photos are from all around Melbourne as I biked along its truly awesome Main Yarra Trail.

As I was coming home, I came across an unfortunate sight.

Right in front of the Exhibition Building (pictured below), there was a person sitting by the sidewalk cutting his(her?) forearm with a razor blade. The cuts weren't too deep, but there was blood, running down his pants and making a puddle on the concrete.

I did a double take as I biked past. I turned around and stopped maybe 3 feet away.

"Hey man, are you ok?"

Eyes are downcast. He doesn't look up.

"Listen, I don't know too much about this sort of thing, but I think maybe you should go to the hospital."

No response. Head down. He takes the razor blade and makes small, shallow cuts higher up on his forearm.

"The hospital is actually just a couple blocks down the road..."

No response. Head down.

At this point, I'm not sure what to do. As I debate this, a roly-poly Australian wanders up and I hear that he is on the phone with the ambulance service. This seems reasonable. I should have thought of that! He next calls the police. He assures them that it's not life-threatening, but that the girl (he has come to the opposite conclusion regarding this unfortunate person's gender) still has the blades. On the phone he expresses concern that he doesn't feel able to take the blades away from this person. I am super concerned that the Australian police would counsel concerned citizens to try and disarm strangers on the street.

"What'd the say?"

"They're coming. They said for us to stay with her."

Seems easy enough. Next thing I know, the roly-poly Australian has taken a seat next to our bleeding, silent friend. He puts a hand on her(his?) shoulder. She shies away. He then reaches over and takes the razor blades out of her hands.

My protestations are halfway out of my mouth, but its too late. The roly-poly fellow takes the razor blades and wraps them in a kleenex. Man. Crazy.

At this point, we all wait around for a few minutes before the police and ambulance arrive. The whole while the unfortunate, androgynous, bleeding person keeps his/her eyes down, keeps silent, keeps seated. Finally they get here. 2 paramedics and 3 police officers to be precise. I wave a half hearted goodbye as they gather around. No one waves back.



(see full image)