Domestic Disturbances are Terrifying and Infuriating
March 21 It's been 23 minutes since I've phoned the police for the second domestic disturbance call. 23 fucking minutes where anything could have happened to the sobbing woman upstairs who's been being screamed at by an angry man. I can hear the woman sobbing and screaming "get the fuck away from me," and the man yelling "I'll do.... what.... fucking want!" I could try to fill in the gaps, but it's hard to understand everything they're saying. All the banging and scraping and space in between us muffles things a bit. I'm terrified because this shouldn't be normal. I'm angry because I am weak. I am pained because I cannot serve some kind of justice. I am but an observer and I have done the best I can. 27 minutes. I am beginning to wonder if they will actually come. I am sitting awake on my porch hoping to get a call or to hear something, anything and there is nothing. I hope everything is okay. I hope everyone is o