ChiKat

Last night, I heard yelling in the alley, followed by the loud and distinctive sound of a slap. I looked out the window and saw a man shaking a woman while yelling at her. I was home alone. I called 911 and told them a man was hitting a woman in the alley. I gave them the address of the building they were standing behind. While I was on the phone, the man struck her again. She was crying, but she wasn't running away or yelling for help. I assume it was a domestic dispute. I don't want to be the nosy neighbor, but I think calling the police is the right thing to do when someone is getting hit.

I did not go outside and ask if everything was ok. I didn't walk my giant dog over there to find out if the woman needed help. That woman will never know that I was watching, hoping that she would be ok. That I called for help for her. I didn't feel safe going out there and getting involved. Even if he started beating on her, I don't think I would have gone out there. I put my own safety (and my sleeping son's safety) ahead of hers.

I want to believe that I am the type of person who would help a person in need. But when the times comes, you think of a million reasons why you should just stay quiet and hope the police arrive. You think that perhaps you will make the situation worse, that perhaps the man will turn on you and hurt you, that perhaps he has a knife or a gun and you will be risking your own life for a stranger's.

And then you realize you are not the type of person to risk your own life for a stranger's. Not today, anyway.

The man yelled at her for about 30 more minutes, pushing her on occasion, but no longer slapping her. Then he got in his car and drove away, while she sobbed in the parking lot before returning to her building. The police never came.