If I was screaming for my life, I would want someone to save me


“Help! Someone please call the police, he is going to kill me!”

Those chilling words penetrated by sleep in the early hours of this morning.

I live in a quiet neighbourhood, the most exciting thing that happens here is that my one neighbour really likes his dubstep, but we don’t complain because it’s dubstep.

However, last night our quiet little block of flats was woken up by a woman being attacked.

I heard a terrified scream, then another voice spoke, he was menacingly violent and then all of sudden I found myself shaking with fear in my bedroom. I thought someone had broken in downstairs and was attacking the lady that lived directly below me.

Three things happened very quickly.

One. I called the cops and they told me to stay calm and they could be along shortly.

Two. I called my “frack I think I might get murdered” contact — he was asleep, so no answer. Shit.

Girl screams again. I hear glass shatter.

Three. I grab a cricket bat my other neigbour had left lying around the other day and head downstairs to help. But before I do this I tweet to the world and let them know I am about to do something incredibly stupid.

Luckily I am not alone, my other neigbour heard the screams too and she is also out and we both confront the guy who looks murderous and ready to hurt someone. He calls her all sorts of names and gets very aggressive. We get girl away from him and get out. Cops show up, and he gets aggressive with them and they send us back to our flats and deal with him.

All this happened in the space of 30mins to 45mins. I stood in the middle of my hallway after: I was shaking with fear but somehow haven’t passed out or let it overwhelm me. Somehow I am sort of okay. I am still clutching the bat, I am not letting it go, I take it to bed with me.

Of course I was tweeting as this happens because if I was indeed going to get caught in a crossfire of domestic dispute at least someone needs to know. I have been asked by my Twitter friends, why I went downstairs after calling the cops. Why didn’t I stay put?

Here is why:

When I heard her bone-chilling screams and decided to go against every single instinct that said to me hide under your bed this instant, and pray for a miracle.

“You never investigate”, I heard myself saying.

“You call the cops and you hide.”

All that was true.

Then I wondered, if it were me or one of my sisters or my girlfriends on the other end of that scream, wouldn’t I want someone to save them? Save me?

So in the midst of crippling fear I summoned up courage and went to save her, knowing that the chances of success was slim because let’s face it the man that incited her screams was not to be trifled with. I went anyway and so did my other neighbour.

I don’t know who the girl was or what happened but she was hurt and bleeding and terrified and that should be enough for anyone who could to try and help.

Lessons learnt:

Violence is a dangerous reality, people are effed up and fear is both crippling and empowering.