Sharp echoes of a girl’s scream dart through the still night, ricocheting off houses in the neighborhood. I can see her now, her shrieking cries are pulling her breath away from her. A man’s voice yells with a loud, muffled tone; then a second. The girl, still crying, begs for them to stop. Fading sounds of a scared baby crying for its mother comes from another room. I’m trying to get over there to help. To protect the girl that now has significant bruises, but my body is stuck, I can’t move, a paralyzed body just lying helpless.
Another loud scream rings, sending chills down my spine. I jump up tired, confused and my vision blurred. My startled heart races as I’m trying to figure out what is happening. It is four thirty in the morning and pitch black. I jump out of my bed and look out the window where all the commotion is coming from. The sight that fills my retinas forces my eyelids to open farther than they ever have before. I check to make sure I am looking out the window, not at the TV. The bald man in the house yells at the other to get off his property, if he doesn’t he is “gonna get hurt.” The dark haired guy has his arm through the doorway trying to get the other guy to come outside buy antagonizing and calling him names. The bald guy slams the door closed with the other mans arm still protruding through. The lady screams again in terror. Now the dark haired guy is burning with anger and grabs Baldy, he pulls him out of the house and slams him against the wall. The girl was knocked to the floor in the process, creating a loud thud. Punches fly back and forth between the two enraged men. The girl is caught between them foolishly trying to pull them apart; she has no success and is hurled to the ground once more. Baldy grabs the other man by his neck, the girl yells “No! Stop, your hurting him!” This distraction gives the dark haired man an advantage; he jerks his body into position, grabs Baldy and launches him into the railing. There was a loud crash and you could hear boards snapping like toothpicks between thick fingers. Baldy then gasps “Stop! I cant’ breathe, I can’t breathe”. He begins to choke the other man, to make him feel his same pain. In defense the dark haired guy pushes his thumb into Baldy’s eyeball, so much that he yells in pain, blood runs out of the socket down his face. The girl screams, horrified and hysterical, “No! Please don’t do this! You’re hurting him, please we have kids! Please, let him go!” “We have kids!” she cries again. I watch in shock for a couple more minutes. Then suddenly my bedroom door bursts open behind me, scaring the tar out of me. My mom joins me, our undivided attention aimed out the window. By now thoughts are flying through my head like war choppers, loud and obnoxious. What could be so important to cause a dangerous evil fight such as this, I think to myself. What could be so important to cause a dangerous evil fight such as this, I think to myself. The fact that there must be a reason to justify this horrible even t is crazy to me. I guess fighting is justifiable in certain situations, but this may be over top. Fighting can be anything from a verbal disagreement with your parents to mauling people in the face like a boxer with no gloves and throwing them into railings. Sometimes it relieves problems, sometimes it makes them worse, and sometimes people just get hurt. Fighting has been around since the beginning of life. Animals fight over food, shelter, and even mates. So it must be useful sometimes.
My mom tells me to hand her my phone. Too shocked and panicked to patiently navigate through my smartphone, she shoves it back into my sweating palm and orders me to dial 911. I do this and then hand the phone back to her while she is talking to an operator telling them she needs they need to send cops. I am too focused on the continuous battle going on outside my house to hear anything else my mom is saying on the phone. From my angle I can only see an occasional glimpse of one of the men or the girl but I cannot see their faces or any possible injuries, luckily I had opened my window as soon as I woke up so I can hear everything like its surround sound at a theatre.
The police finally arrive. An officer jumps out of his car and runs up to the porch. The fighting stops and he rips the beasts apart. Five more Oakland County squad cars pull up in front of the house. All the flashing lights make the neighborhood look like a carnival. An officer takes the girl in the house and questions her. I can’t make out what they are saying, but the girl is pacing back and forth and crying, as the officer jots down notes in his important little notebook.