just me, teddy, and my giant mag-lite
I’ve watched too many law and order: special victims’ unit for my own good. So when I heard a girl’s voice “Get off me!” yelled repeatedly (at 2am), I slipped on my slippers and took a walk down my hall listening for the right room. When I found it I didn’t know what to do, although my instincts told me to a) knock the door down and kick the shit out of the guy or b) call 911 and hide. I settled with knocking (loudly) on the door and playing the part of nosy neighbor when it opened.
He said She was okay as She was wiping away fresh tears. He did not look violent; She did not look battered. I think my brief appearance shocked them out of whatever they were doing.
I was still paranoid and paced the halls for the next half hour. When her suitemate came back, I felt a little safer. But I didn’t go back to my room until He and She (their new names) came out into the hall to look for something she forgot and went back in (together, without tears or visible distress). I totally got the full description of Him (can’t help but be grammatically correct) though, if there ever is a problem. I got everything from the height, to the tattoo, to the wife-beater tank. (irony is never wasted on me.)
And now I still can’t sleep, or calm down, or think of anything besides violence (given to or from Him).
How was I suposed to handle that?
He said She was okay as She was wiping away fresh tears. He did not look violent; She did not look battered. I think my brief appearance shocked them out of whatever they were doing.
I was still paranoid and paced the halls for the next half hour. When her suitemate came back, I felt a little safer. But I didn’t go back to my room until He and She (their new names) came out into the hall to look for something she forgot and went back in (together, without tears or visible distress). I totally got the full description of Him (can’t help but be grammatically correct) though, if there ever is a problem. I got everything from the height, to the tattoo, to the wife-beater tank. (irony is never wasted on me.)
And now I still can’t sleep, or calm down, or think of anything besides violence (given to or from Him).
How was I suposed to handle that?