A Stranger At 1am

I was 19 years old, sitting on the back porch of my tiny little studio apartment. My girlfriend and I were sharing a cigarette at about 1AM, calm, relaxed, satisfied after a particularly enjoyable round of... you get the idea. I lived in a pretty crummy neighborhood (just like everyone does in their first apartment) so when I heard muffled shouting I didn't think twice about it.

About a minute later I saw a lady walking down the street, heavyset, maybe 30 years old, talking on her cellphone pretty loudly. As she gets closer I could hear her saying "he has a screwdriver, and I don't know where he is but he beat the **** out of me."

I looked at my girlfriend, who was just as alarmed as I was. I shouted to the lady, "do you need help?"

She looked at me, said "yes, I do", hung up the phone, and ran to my porch. I could see that she was only wearing a tanktop and shorts, despite the fact that it's late in the Fall in the pacific northwest, perhaps 40 degrees Fahrenheit outside. I ushered her into my apartment, closed the blinds, and ran to get her a sweater from my closet. When I turned around I got my first good look at her.

Her face was bright purple and red on one side from an obvious beating she had just taken. Her jaw was swollen, and hanging just slightly ajar. Her eye on the same side was swollen completely shut, and blood was running down her face from her scalp. And to top it off, her tanktop had been torn at the shoulder, so that one large breast was hanging exposed. I gave the sweater to her and asked if she thought the man had followed her. She said no, but said that she needed to go to a hospital, which was obvious.

I locked my doors, told my girl to wait inside with the lady (whose name I never caught, unfortunately), as I went outside to pull my car around to the front door of my apartment. I looked around, to make sure her assailant wasn't anywhere near, and walked to the door and told them to get in the car.

When we got in the car I started driving her to the hospital I asked if she was talking to the police when I talked to her. She 'hmm'd and 'hahh'd for a moment and told me that she was on the phone with a friend. It wasn't any of my business but I told that she should probably call the cops. She just agreed with me and I didn't pursue the subject any further.

She thanked me perhaps a thousand times on the drive to the hospital, and started explaining the situation without provocation. I'll save you the details, but the gist is that she was over at a "friend's" place down the road after he picked her up from downtown. She only knew this friend's first name, not his last. They were getting along swimmingly until he accused her of stealing some crack, which she said she never touched because she was "3 days clean". He didn't buy it, and started swinging. She pulled a screwdriver out of her purse, which she kept on her for self defense. He overpowered her, took the screwdriver, and proceeded to **** her up, at which point she fled, and I entered the story.

I dropped her off, she said "thank you" a million more times. She went in to the ER by herself and that was the last I ever saw of her. I guess I can only infer that she was a prostitute, though I don't think anyone would disagree. But that's irrelevant because I'm not a very judgmental person. I'm just glad I was able to help her when she clearly needed it.
hailtothethief hailtothethief
18-21, M
Jul 19, 2010