I live in a shit part of town, I won't lie. When I first moved to that little apartment, it was because it was the cheapest in town and within a 30 minute walk to my work if I needed. Old management used to put in airmen and navy guys living around me, knowing I was the only female living in that section. When new management took over, they really didn't think who was living where, they kinda just accepted anyone who had money and put them wherever space was available.
Over the past year I've grown to hate where I live. Bum neighbours asking for rides, can openers, nonsensical conversations about things that keep me from getting to work on time.. just idiocy in the multitudes. What bothers me most is I can't tell you how much more often I've seen the police in my little roundabout.
The night after Christmas, Porter and I were chillin out max and building a puzzle when approximately 10:30pm I get a knock at my door. I open the door and it's my neighbour lady, sobbing, covered in blood. Without hesitation, I pull her in and lock the door and the latch.
"Can I use your phone?" She musters out through thick mucus and snot.
I bring her to my kitchen sink, asking her what happened, and as I get a better look at her in the light, I can tell it was nothing pretty.
Her nose is without a doubt, busted. Blood had been rushing from it for quite some time. I see a big fist-sized pool of blood on her shirt where her nose and mouth had been draining to. I lift her freezing hands to the hot water which are also caked in blood. I grab some towels to wipe her blood stained purse off. Her hair is matted.
I ask again, "Sweetheart, what happened?"
"I walked here," She started, her hands trembling under the water.
"We were at his sister's house, we'd gotten into an argument," and from the smell of alcohol on her breath, I could tell it was an angry drunk one.
"He beat the shit outta me so I walked home. I been sittin out there for about an hour and he still hasn't come to let me in yet."
"You don't have a key?" I inquire.
"I haven't had a key at the last three places we've lived at." She looks over to notice Porter sitting on the couch and starts sobbing.
"Do you want me to call the police?"
"No, could I just borrow your phone? I just want him to let me in."
I look at Porter concerned, he has a blank expression giving no persuasion either way. I hand her the phone once she dries her hands.
She dials a few times, drunk dials I guess, and finally a right number.
"Can you come let me in?" She says firmly.
I hear him on the receiving end but nothing audible.
"I just want to get into the apartment." She hangs up on him.
"May I use your bathroom please?"
"Of course" And signal her the way.
I get a call shortly after. It's the same number she has dialed. It's him.
For those of you well acquainted with me, I have a very low tolerance for this kind of shit. The women that are nearest to me, by heart and within arms reach, I hold under my wing if I can because more often than not I'm the strongest thing between them and the man. Sometimes stronger than the man.
I answer the phone sternly. "Hello."
"Where's Angel? Who is this?"
"This is my damn phone, you called me."
"Well let me speak to her."
"No, you have two choices jackass, let her into the damn apartment or I'm calling the police."
"Fine you can call the fuckin police."
Alright.
I look to Porter. "You think so?"
"Yeah I think you should."
911, what is your emergency?
"Yes, I'd like to report domestic violence. My neighbour just came to my door covered in blood.
She asked for my name, I gave it. My address, I gave it.
Do you know where the male is now?
"No, this didn't happen at my place. It happened a few blocks away."
Is the woman still there with you?
"Yes ma'am, would you like to speak to her?"
I put Angel on the phone.
She tells them what she told me. Two minutes later, police show up. We live about a two minute drive from the station.
One of the cops gets all her information, then his age, race, and vehicle.
"He's not in his car, he drove off with friends. I'm not sure of the vehicle."
He looks to me and gets my information, "Want me to stay with you?" I ask her after I'm finished.
"Please do." She says.
"Has this ever happened before ma'am?" The cop asks, the second cop taking photographic evidence and calls in an ambulance on his walkie.
"No," She said as she looked down. I looked at her with a crazy face. I knew it wasn't true.
"We've been together eleven years. He's just drunk is all. I just want to get into my apartment so I can grab some things."
The cop looks to me. I just softly shake my head, a face of concern.
"Do you have any idea where he might have been headed ma'am?"
"No. I just know he's not at his sister's anymore."
He asked for her address and Angel complied.
By that time the paramedics came and checked out her nose. She refused to go to the hospital, "Can't nobody pay for that shit." She said.
"It really does need to be set, miss. You don't have to come in the ambulance with us but we highly recommend you get it checked out soon."
She nods her head.
The cop gives her some pamphlets about domestic abuse and woman care facilities.
"If we can catch him within the next 24 hours, he'll go to jail and if not, all charges are dropped and there's really not a lot we can do from there unless you call us again. If you see or hear from him again tonight ladies, please feel free to give us a call."
I could tell the sincerity in this man's voice. To him, this wasn't just another call. I could tell he was as bothered by this as I was.
"But sir, how will I get back into my apartment? I really just want to get in." Angel added.
"Oh well your maintenance staff will have to take care of that." He shrugged apathetically.
"I have the number," I remembered it saved in my phone.
The police leave and the guy comes to let her in. All is quiet for about thirty minutes.
I hear Angel screaming from next door, "They're comin for you! The police are comin, so you better get away from here!" Then a knock at the door.
I know it's not Angel.
I look at Porter, then get up and grab my bat I keep behind the door.
Adrenaline took over and I swug the door open, bat ready.
He was already running to his friend's car before I even stepped out the door.
He gave me one last glance as I put the phone to my ear.
911 what is your emergency?
Hi I just called about the domestic violence? He was here.
I described the vehicle.
Okay we're sending someone that way.
"You really don't have to, he should be around your area by now. Send out the description."
I knocked on Angels door.
"They're comin for you! Leave me alone!"
"Angel! Angel it's me!"
She opens the door, "He was here! I locked his ass out!"
"I know I know, good deal, I called the police again."
Moments later the police showed up.
The cop walked toward us, "I told the receiver it really wasn't necessary."
"I know, but the train caught us," he explained, a discontent face appeared.
"We got the call but the train came through."
I understood. The copper station might be really close but the tracks are what divide us.
"Just call us if you see him again. We'll be on the lookout for his vehicle." He left.
"Girl leave his ass. You don't deserve this. I'll beat his ass with my bat given I see him again."
"I know girl. But I have to. I have no where to go. I can't have my kids here with me because of him. I don't have custody."
I refer back to the pamphlets, "Yes you do. anywhere is better than here. Do it for your kids."
About an hour after he left I got a call from him.
"Oh so you wanna call the cops on me bitch? Huh? You wanna start some shit bitch? Oh we gon' see. Yeah we gon' see. Stupid bitch." And hangs up.
I casually go back to my puzzle making.
"And?" Porter asked.
"It was him. Just threatening and stuff. But I feel safe with you here, I ain't worried," and flash him a smirk.
"I dare his ass to call here again. I dare him."
To wrap this up, no, they didn't catch him that night. It was the next day that his ass finally came back and starting packing things into the car. I haven't seen her since then. I do know that every time Porter comes around, no matter what the jackass is doing, he runs so fast into that apartment it's funny. Seriously, you threaten a white girl associated with a 6'5'' beast of a black man? Hell no. You're not winning anything.
Bottom line. If you know anyone who is in this situation, help. If they've been in the situation forever like Angel has, maybe all they need is that extra push. Stop feeling bad for them and start telling them what they need to hear. That it isn't worth it. Not all 'Angels' in the world (so to speak) have a rock hard ginger neighbour to run to for refuge. Not all Angels in the world have a man that will be a man instead of a puss that beats on her just because he can. Report these situations, people. Make it known.
Over the past year I've grown to hate where I live. Bum neighbours asking for rides, can openers, nonsensical conversations about things that keep me from getting to work on time.. just idiocy in the multitudes. What bothers me most is I can't tell you how much more often I've seen the police in my little roundabout.
The night after Christmas, Porter and I were chillin out max and building a puzzle when approximately 10:30pm I get a knock at my door. I open the door and it's my neighbour lady, sobbing, covered in blood. Without hesitation, I pull her in and lock the door and the latch.
"Can I use your phone?" She musters out through thick mucus and snot.
I bring her to my kitchen sink, asking her what happened, and as I get a better look at her in the light, I can tell it was nothing pretty.
Her nose is without a doubt, busted. Blood had been rushing from it for quite some time. I see a big fist-sized pool of blood on her shirt where her nose and mouth had been draining to. I lift her freezing hands to the hot water which are also caked in blood. I grab some towels to wipe her blood stained purse off. Her hair is matted.
I ask again, "Sweetheart, what happened?"
"I walked here," She started, her hands trembling under the water.
"We were at his sister's house, we'd gotten into an argument," and from the smell of alcohol on her breath, I could tell it was an angry drunk one.
"He beat the shit outta me so I walked home. I been sittin out there for about an hour and he still hasn't come to let me in yet."
"You don't have a key?" I inquire.
"I haven't had a key at the last three places we've lived at." She looks over to notice Porter sitting on the couch and starts sobbing.
"Do you want me to call the police?"
"No, could I just borrow your phone? I just want him to let me in."
I look at Porter concerned, he has a blank expression giving no persuasion either way. I hand her the phone once she dries her hands.
She dials a few times, drunk dials I guess, and finally a right number.
"Can you come let me in?" She says firmly.
I hear him on the receiving end but nothing audible.
"I just want to get into the apartment." She hangs up on him.
"May I use your bathroom please?"
"Of course" And signal her the way.
I get a call shortly after. It's the same number she has dialed. It's him.
For those of you well acquainted with me, I have a very low tolerance for this kind of shit. The women that are nearest to me, by heart and within arms reach, I hold under my wing if I can because more often than not I'm the strongest thing between them and the man. Sometimes stronger than the man.
I answer the phone sternly. "Hello."
"Where's Angel? Who is this?"
"This is my damn phone, you called me."
"Well let me speak to her."
"No, you have two choices jackass, let her into the damn apartment or I'm calling the police."
"Fine you can call the fuckin police."
Alright.
I look to Porter. "You think so?"
"Yeah I think you should."
911, what is your emergency?
"Yes, I'd like to report domestic violence. My neighbour just came to my door covered in blood.
She asked for my name, I gave it. My address, I gave it.
Do you know where the male is now?
"No, this didn't happen at my place. It happened a few blocks away."
Is the woman still there with you?
"Yes ma'am, would you like to speak to her?"
I put Angel on the phone.
She tells them what she told me. Two minutes later, police show up. We live about a two minute drive from the station.
One of the cops gets all her information, then his age, race, and vehicle.
"He's not in his car, he drove off with friends. I'm not sure of the vehicle."
He looks to me and gets my information, "Want me to stay with you?" I ask her after I'm finished.
"Please do." She says.
"Has this ever happened before ma'am?" The cop asks, the second cop taking photographic evidence and calls in an ambulance on his walkie.
"No," She said as she looked down. I looked at her with a crazy face. I knew it wasn't true.
"We've been together eleven years. He's just drunk is all. I just want to get into my apartment so I can grab some things."
The cop looks to me. I just softly shake my head, a face of concern.
"Do you have any idea where he might have been headed ma'am?"
"No. I just know he's not at his sister's anymore."
He asked for her address and Angel complied.
By that time the paramedics came and checked out her nose. She refused to go to the hospital, "Can't nobody pay for that shit." She said.
"It really does need to be set, miss. You don't have to come in the ambulance with us but we highly recommend you get it checked out soon."
She nods her head.
The cop gives her some pamphlets about domestic abuse and woman care facilities.
"If we can catch him within the next 24 hours, he'll go to jail and if not, all charges are dropped and there's really not a lot we can do from there unless you call us again. If you see or hear from him again tonight ladies, please feel free to give us a call."
I could tell the sincerity in this man's voice. To him, this wasn't just another call. I could tell he was as bothered by this as I was.
"But sir, how will I get back into my apartment? I really just want to get in." Angel added.
"Oh well your maintenance staff will have to take care of that." He shrugged apathetically.
"I have the number," I remembered it saved in my phone.
The police leave and the guy comes to let her in. All is quiet for about thirty minutes.
I hear Angel screaming from next door, "They're comin for you! The police are comin, so you better get away from here!" Then a knock at the door.
I know it's not Angel.
I look at Porter, then get up and grab my bat I keep behind the door.
Adrenaline took over and I swug the door open, bat ready.
He was already running to his friend's car before I even stepped out the door.
He gave me one last glance as I put the phone to my ear.
911 what is your emergency?
Hi I just called about the domestic violence? He was here.
I described the vehicle.
Okay we're sending someone that way.
"You really don't have to, he should be around your area by now. Send out the description."
I knocked on Angels door.
"They're comin for you! Leave me alone!"
"Angel! Angel it's me!"
She opens the door, "He was here! I locked his ass out!"
"I know I know, good deal, I called the police again."
Moments later the police showed up.
The cop walked toward us, "I told the receiver it really wasn't necessary."
"I know, but the train caught us," he explained, a discontent face appeared.
"We got the call but the train came through."
I understood. The copper station might be really close but the tracks are what divide us.
"Just call us if you see him again. We'll be on the lookout for his vehicle." He left.
"Girl leave his ass. You don't deserve this. I'll beat his ass with my bat given I see him again."
"I know girl. But I have to. I have no where to go. I can't have my kids here with me because of him. I don't have custody."
I refer back to the pamphlets, "Yes you do. anywhere is better than here. Do it for your kids."
About an hour after he left I got a call from him.
"Oh so you wanna call the cops on me bitch? Huh? You wanna start some shit bitch? Oh we gon' see. Yeah we gon' see. Stupid bitch." And hangs up.
I casually go back to my puzzle making.
"And?" Porter asked.
"It was him. Just threatening and stuff. But I feel safe with you here, I ain't worried," and flash him a smirk.
"I dare his ass to call here again. I dare him."
To wrap this up, no, they didn't catch him that night. It was the next day that his ass finally came back and starting packing things into the car. I haven't seen her since then. I do know that every time Porter comes around, no matter what the jackass is doing, he runs so fast into that apartment it's funny. Seriously, you threaten a white girl associated with a 6'5'' beast of a black man? Hell no. You're not winning anything.
Bottom line. If you know anyone who is in this situation, help. If they've been in the situation forever like Angel has, maybe all they need is that extra push. Stop feeling bad for them and start telling them what they need to hear. That it isn't worth it. Not all 'Angels' in the world (so to speak) have a rock hard ginger neighbour to run to for refuge. Not all Angels in the world have a man that will be a man instead of a puss that beats on her just because he can. Report these situations, people. Make it known.
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