In the blink of an eye, the unimaginable happened. Hardly able to hold it in, the sight of Jeremy slicing his bare wrist, caused me to literally throw up in my mouth. This incident transcended so far beyond my wildest imagination, that despite happening before my eyes, my mind still couldn't help but question its veracity. Where was the goddamn police?
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Jeremy screamed, before falling to his knees. "LET ME IN...I NEED HELP!"
The paralyzing decision to cut himself left me temporarily unable to respond with a single word from the English dictionary. This emotional collapse also led to the subsequent impairment of my vision as endless tears collected in the wells of my eyes and blurred my view through the peephole-- that was probably for the best.
At this point, no other course of action was available to me except waiting things out. Unfortunately, that wait wouldn't be long because time just wasn't on my side. As the clock ticked on, it was increasingly evident that soon not even Jesus himself would be able to stop the full-blown panic attack brewing inside. Embittered anguish continued to sink in, while I paced the floor in disbelief and anticipation of what was to come.
"Help me before I bleed to death...please..."Jeremy begged.
"THE POLICE...ARE ON THEIR WAY!" I panted through hyperventilating breaths. "ANY...ANY MINUTE NOW!"
"Babe, PLEASE! I'm dying..." he cried out in frustration.
"NO...YOU'RE LYING! I DON'T EVEN BELIEVE YOU REALLY DID IT!" I sobbed, hoping all the while it wasn't true.
"LYING?" He shouted, somehow regaining enough strength to hop onto his feet. As a last show of desperation, Jeremy took his injured forearm and smeared copious amounts of blood all over the hallway wall. "DOES IT LOOK LIKE I'M F**KIN' LYING TO YOU B***H! NOW ARE YOU GONNA HELP ME OR NOT?"
His simple question led me into deep thought. On one hand, the idea of opening the door to render first aid absolutely paralyzed me with fear. Therefore, that just wasn't an option! On the other, I couldn't stand the thought of watching Jeremy bleed to death. Just to be clear, it wasn't so much the bleeding to death part that got to me...it was more-so the act of watching. I decided to allow fate to take its course.
"Bleed, Jeremy...bleed...YOU did this to yourself, not me..."
Growing impatient, I looked at the call log on my cell phone. Four long minutes had passed since the police were initially called and there was still no sign of their approach. After an extended moment of silence, the unexpected sound of my neighbor's voice coming down the stairs could be heard. This must've startled Jeremy because a few seconds later, without provocation he fled the scene— taking flight like an injured "bat outta hell." Three minutes later, the police arrived...
"What do you mean I have to have proof he was here? THAT MAKES NO SENSE!" I argued. "How can I? He didn't call or anything! He just showed up and tried to kick the door in. Now, if Y'all hadn't taken so long to get here, then you would've seen for yourselves that he violated the restraining order. Matter of fact, the stuff on the wall there is his blood! THERE'S YOUR PROOF! TEST IT IF YOU..."
"Ma'am, MA'AM! CALM DOWN!" One of the officers demanded, treating me as though I was the one who committed the crime. "As we told you before we need more proof of the violation! I can't say for sure WHAT that is on the wall. But, if we went around swabbing every random substance when people told us to, then that would cost the taxpayers way too much money. We just don't have that kind of time or resources. Here's what we're gonna do for you...at this point we have his information and a general description so we will be on the lookout just in case, okay. Now, if he calls or comes near you again...and you can get us proof of that, like a video, call log or something, THEN give us a call."
By the end of his ineffectual speech, I stood there fuming at the band of officers before me--unable to grasp their lack of concern or urgency. My faith in the justice system as a whole had completely dissolved. At every turn, I was stuck in a situation with no remedy. This heated level of frustration continued to build until I could hold it in no longer.
"GET OUT! JUST GET OUT! Y'ALL DON'T CARE WHETHER I'M SAFE OR NOT. SO, SINCE THE ONLY THING YOU'RE WORRIED ABOUT IS GETTING PROOF, NEXT TIME YOU COME I MIGHT BE DEAD! NOW GET OUT...ALL OF YOU!" I cried as they were aggressively herded away.
Before shutting the door completely, I attentively studied the freshly hued wall with intransigent disgust. The now dried blood suffused along a large portion of the hallway wall represented something deeper than anyone could imagine. The mask that I had secretly worn and the silent torment I endured for so long was now paraded on full display for all to see, "Tionna's gonna kill me!" I whispered...
YOU ARE READING
Fault
Non-Fiction"If you leave me, I will kill you," he said. This is how my story started. I left him 7 months ago, he'll swear we never parted. Recollections of such memories just brings my eyes to tears, it's the most pain I've ever experienced in my 21 years...t...
