[ WP ] Whenever you do good things , your lifespan shortens . Whenever you do bad things , your lifespan lengthens .

The black bar on Marks forearm shrunk again. He set the young lady on the ground and ran back into the building and moments later came back with two children in his arms. He took a few deep breaths after he set them down and watched the black bar shrink further. *Maybe ten years left, * he thought to himself. The burning building shifted and groaned as a floor collapsed somewhere on the second floor. Mark headed back in; there were still people in there that needed help. 
 
 “ Help me! Help! ” A voice came from the top of the stairs. Mark squinted and finally saw the woman. She saw him at the same time and waved him forward furiously. She didn ’ t wait for him but took off down the hallway and darted into a room. Mark followed quickly, but the smoke was getting to him. 
 
 “ Here! Here! Help me move that! ” The woman was nearly hysterical and Mark soon saw why. Her husband was trapped under a portion of collapsed wall. The smoke created a visual barrier, but Mark thought he saw movement on the other side of the hole where the wall used to be. Mark grabbed the man under the armpits and dragged him out of the room. The woman helped by grabbing his legs and lifting with all of her strength. 
 
 They made it outside as another wall collapsed inside. The black bar on Marks arm dwindled. Three or four years left was all. The woman splashed some water on her face, grabbed Marks shirt and put her face inches from his. 
 
 “ Help me. My kids. Two more, please I ’ m begging you. ” Tears tracked streaks down her soot-covered face. 
 
 “ I ’ m sorry, I can ’ t do any more. I ’ m all done in. ” Mark held up his forearm and the black bar had finally stopped shrinking. The bar was a fraction of what it had been, leaving him with maybe two years left. 
 
 The woman held her arm up for Mark to see. The black bar was nearly gone. She wouldn ’ t make it a month. A sob escaped her. “ My kids. Please. I ’ m done anyway, I can ’ t be cruel to my kids like some people. I ’ ll trade for their lives. Mine for theirs. Please, they are all I ’ ve got. ” She collapsed against his chest pleading. 
 
 The two kids were hugging their father when Mark exited the building some time later. The father watched as Mark, against the glow of the building, wiped the blood from his hands onto his shirt. As Mark zipped up his pants and buckled his belt he saw the black bar extend well up onto his bicep. 
 
 `` She loved you very much,'' Mark said to the kids before he got into his car and drove home whistling to himself. 

