I always considered myself a good, faithful friend. I was always ready to help my friends, always listening to everyone, supporting them morally. But recently there was a story, after which I do not know whether I am a good friend or I just thought so.
We went with friends for an evening walk. We were coming home closer to midnight, not many people on the street, but the lights were on. And then some unpleasant man comes up to us and starts talking nonsense and trying to grab the three of us one by one by the arms.
I was in a light-hearted and joking mood that night. On the one hand I was frightened of the man, but on the other hand I felt a little amused that we were caught up in a story, some maniac was coming on to us. I wanted to cut the conversation short, so I squealed and ran ahead of him. For some reason I thought my friends should do the same. That we would run away and laugh at him.
When I ran a little ahead, I looked back and realized that I was running alone. My friends were walking leisurely, snapping at the man angrily. "Keep your hands to yourself," they said. I waited until they caught up with me. I felt a little ashamed of my fear, and of the fact that I had run ahead. My friends over there are fighting, and they're not afraid.

The man fell behind in a minute, and I heard my friends reprimand me that I should not have run ahead. After all, one of them is in high heels and can not run. So the other one was leading her under her arm.
And now I'm at a loss. It's like, I'm a coward and a traitor for running ahead. But if the man had been violent and my friends needed my help, I would have come back. Or called the police.
I'm not quite sure how I should have behaved in that situation. The man could have been with a knife in theory. And what could the three girls have done against him except run away?