Four guys, a door, and a Wii.
At 1:14 this morning I was asleep. The hardwood floors and thin plaster walls echoed the banging on the door. I drew myself up out of a deep sleep, struggling to sit up and throwing the covers off. I swung my feet over my bed and stumbled to my bedroom door.
The door to my campus apartment doesn’t have a peephole. It doesn’t even have a working handle any more. The door continued to bang loudly, in my daze, my first thought went to my roommates, I assumed one of them had been out and forgotten their key; it wouldn’t be unprecedented, its happened once or twice before. I opened the door-just a crack. I was greeted by a man in a yellow hoodie, with a hockey mask on. He said something about a party downstairs, it didn’t register, I thought something was wrong.
When he rushed the door, I rushed back, closing it on him when he was about half-way through. I screamed an obscenity, I struck at his exposed side as I pushed hard on the door, with him doing the same. I am 5’9”, 160 pounds. He was about 6’1” easily 200. I was tired, half asleep, in my boxers and barefoot. I didn’t stand a chance.
Man, I hate it when I’m right.
After he got in through the door he called in his two friends, he grappled with me, pinned down my left arm. I was already at a major disadvantage, I hit him in the side a few times, I’m not sure where the blows landed, my head was down as we wrestled. Someone hit me in the head; I saw stars and got hit two more times. I went to my knees. I screamed another obscenity. He finished tackling me and pinned me to the ground, I got hit a few more times in the side of the head. I threw out my hands to the side and gave up, and made it very clear to him. He stopped his assault as he straddled me, my arms were free and out to the sides. One of my roommates opened his door, Isaiah got told to “get the fuck back in the room” and he complied. We sat like that, him on top of me, my arms out to the side, him looking over at his friends occasionally, for about 45 seconds, maybe a minute, I can’t be sure. When the other two had run off with my roommate’s Wii, he looked back, around, then down at me. Like a bad movie villain setting up the hero for a comeback line in the 5th act, he said “Don’t you ever fuckin’ swing on me” and clocked me just about as hard as he could on the left side of my face. He got up and left, I forgot the door, forgot my throbbing arm and face; high on adrenaline I grabbed my phone and dialed 911 as I snagged my glasses from my desk and threw back the blinds on my windows to look for their getaway car. I saw a small, four door black Pontiac, brand new or nearly so, my roommates saw the same thing out their windows. We’re on the third floor, too high and far to get a plate. Damn.
I explain the situation to the dispatcher, my voice is ragged and a little choked. I feel like I just ran a hundred yards. She transfers me to the campus police, I tell them the same thing. They get here inside of ten minutes, ten times longer than the whole thing took. I told them everything I could. No weapons, thank God. I’m banged up, but it could be worse. I hope they get them.