The Neighbors

Remember I lived in a small crappy apartment?  I had neighbors, too.

I mostly stayed to myself as I really wasn't interested in making friends with my fellow apartment dwellers.  There were three floors to the building with 2 apartments on each floor.  I was on the second floor and in the apartment across the hall from me was a young couple.  They could have been married, or not --I really don't know.  They were both active duty soldiers as well.  That's pretty much all I knew about them.  I heard them more than I ever saw them.

And heard them I did.  Almost every night there would be screaming and yelling coming from their apartment.  It was more like the man yelling and the woman screaming in fear or pain --and loud crashing noises too.  The woman would be yelling things like, "Please stop! No!  Okay, I won't. . . ."  Sometimes it was just inaudible words.  It always scared me.  I would go over to my door and double check the locks and put the chain on the door --that really didn't make me feel much safer but it seemed something smart to do.  Sometimes I would hear their door slam as if someone left.

The first time it happened I called the police but I did not give my name.  I was too afraid too.  When the police showed up, the woman came to the door and told the police everything was fine.  I, of course, through our paper thin doors, could hear the entire conversation and even see bits of it through the peep hole on my door.  My heart was pounding and my palms sweaty as I realized there was just a paper thin door between me and this man across the hall --and this woman seemed to be defending him.

That angered me and scared me all the more.  After the police left I heard the man yelling, "DID YOU CALL THEM?  DID YOU CALL THE POLICE ON ME?"  The woman was crying and assuring him she had nothing to do with it.  Calling the police only made the situation worse.

On occasion when I'd see one of them in the hallway, they were both so nice and friendly.  The man was very attractive, which surprised me.  I wanted him to look like the monster I thought he was.  The young woman was very attractive too and timid and shy.  Without looking like I was gawking at her, whenever I saw her I tried hard to see bruises, marks or any other signs of injury.  She was a lovely dark skinned woman, these things were difficult for me to spot with just a quick glance.

This went on week after week until one night, it was the worst it ever had been.  By this time, I was well into my pregnancy.  The fighting began as it usually did but soon it had escalated beyond anything I had heard before.  There was a loud smashing sound --like something very large had been throw against the wall.  It was horrible.  Then I heard their front door open so I quickly looked out the peep hole and saw the woman running out, she was terrified.  The man ran after her and I could hear them outside.

I have no idea what sort of lack of sense came about me but when I thought about calling the police I remembered that only made things worse the last time.  So this time I decided the last thing this guy wanted was a witness --so slowly I slide the chain off of my door, turned the door knob and found myself walking down the stairs toward the screams.    I got outside and looked over to find the woman hiding in a bush.   She was crying and trembling so I walked over to her and said, "You don't have to take this.  You can get help.  Let me help you."  She looked at me and started to step out of the bushes and suddenly her expression changed and she conjured up a fake smile and said, "Oh man, we're just playn' and stuff."  She stood there with stone cold eyes, staring behind me.  I turned around and there he was, the woman beater and I was standing between him and his victim.