We gotta get outta here

Ok, I know this is my third post today, but I guess I have a lot to say. Make sure you scroll down to my other posts of the day. So before we lived in our home here in North Las Vegas, we lived in an apartment on the east side of town. Some would say that area is a little bit of the ghetto, but we felt just fine there. We just had a few crazy experiences with people coming to our place in the middle of the night, knocking on the windows, etc. One time some kind of transgender/transvestite/not really sure what arrived in the middle of the night. Sweet. In our new home, we have been fine for the most part, just one attempted break-in (we weren't home) for which we got a house alarm.
Last night, we were in bed and about 3am woke up to some pounding on our front door. Of course we jumped out of bed and Cristian went to see what it was, muttering, "I thought we left these experiences at our old apartment." Let me say that when people have come in the middle of the night, it is always Cristian who checks it out, and leaves me in the protection of our home, but this time he told me to get dressed and come in case we had to desparately push our door shut against intruders. Great. I was terrified and went and got our butcher knife from the kitchen. Anyway, it was a kid, probably in his early twenties, with blood all over his head, saying he had been jumped by 8 guys and woke up in our neighborhood, could we please call 911? He was wearing a bathrobe, said he had been at a lingerie party, and he was in the Air Force. He was definitely still drunk, but also clearly in need of help. Cristian called 911. We stayed with him (whate else would we do, he was bleeding all over our front porch) until the police came. At one point on of the paramedics was talking to him and he slumped over and fell out of the chair we had brought out onto the ground. Just blacked out, whether from alcohol or shock, I don't know. I think he really was in the Air Force, because he went into military mode and answered with "Sir" puntuating every sentence as if he was being drilled. The paramedic was nice enough to clean the blood off of our porch, and we got it off the wall next to the door. It must have been from his hand. He was bleeding a lot.
I felt really bad for him once I knew there was no danger to us, but I certainly don't need that experience ever again. I am not saying that all of Vegas is like this, there are many great things about it. We just happen to attract the crazies. We gotta get out of this town.