If you walk into a locker room and see a 50-year-old man raping a 10-year-old boy…
you stop it.
You don’t wonder what your next step should be.
You don’t worry what you have to do to make sure you are covered.
You don’t rack your brain trying to remember the chain of reporting.
You don’t run out of the room… even if there is a gun or an army in the next room.
You stop that shit.
You shout from the depth of your soul, “Stop! Get away from that boy, you sick, evil man.”
You shout, “Run, buddy! Run to me!”
You charge the monster and attack like a man possessed with the spirits of every noble warrior that has ever lived.
There seems to be some confusion on this matter. So I thought I would clear it up.