Staring up at the uncounted stars, I felt more insignificant and powerless than ever before. The flashing red and blue lights upon the garage door attracted my attention. The police were leaving. Although they had been there for while, their departure left me feeling anxious. If someone came back I don’t think I would have been able to keep it together.
On a Monday night I drove my father to the airport. He was going to North Carolina and wouldn’t be back until Friday. I wasn’t worried, but my mom had a feeling of unease that she could not shake. She didn’t want him to leave.
As I got home from the airport, my mom was leaving to pick up my sisters from drama practice, which usually take her about half an hour. She hadn’t been gone five minutes when I heard someone pounding on the door. There was a young woman on the step, out of breath, with tears streaming down her face.
The neighborhood in which I live is known for being rough. You don’t walk around by yourself after dark, you don’t make eye contact with people you don’t know, and you definitely don’t walk up to a stranger’s house and knock on the door.
I was hesitant to answer, but it seemed as if she was in trouble. As soon as I got the door open, she was asking to use my phone. “My boyfriend is chasing me, he hit me, he tried to kill my baby!” she managed to choke out through her sobs. Her clothes were so baggy I hadn’t even realized she was pregnant.
I quickly ran to get my phone, contemplating whether to let her in the house or not. I decided against it, considering that I was home alone and that it could just be a setup. Sitting on the step with her, I tried to calm her down. I found out that her name was Melissa, she was 22 years old, and was taking classes at Sac City College. She was four months pregnant.
“I have a friend who lives around the corner” she said, “I can go there until my aunt comes.”
“Ok. I’ll walk you over there,” I responded.
“No, that’s ok, he can be dangerous. I don’t want you to get hurt if he finds me.”
I walked her to the corner instead. I was still within sight of the house, and I saw her make it to her friend’s place safely.
Walking back, I thought about how strange the situation was, how she didn’t want to call the police, and how she could have gone to her friend’s house in the first place. I dismissed her behavior as being too hysterical to be able to think straight.
A few minutes later, my mom arrived with my sister. After I told them what had happened, my mom said she wanted to go meet Melissa and make sure she was fine.
When I went to get the phone, Melissa must have snagged the keys that were laying on the kitchen counter, because when we opened the door, she was getting into the car. Without even thinking, I ran behind the car so that if she got it into gear she wouldn’t be able to drive away. My mom called for my sisters to get the spare keys. I dialed 911 and explained what was going on. Meanwhile, my mom had gotten inside the car and wrestled the keys away from Melissa. When the police arrived, they took Melissa into custody.
I have never before felt so many emotions at one time: betrayal, stupidity, anger, fear. For a little while, I felt as though I had lost my faith in humanity. I tried to help a woman in trouble and she took advantage of me. I had no desire to help anyone again. Why should I?
But then, three days later, I was pulling up to a red light, and I saw a homeless man holding a sign. Unfortunately, I was still angry and I thought the worst. He was probably a drunk, or a drug addict asking for money for food. I wasn’t even going to look at him, but I’m glad that I did. He was holding a sign with a broken heart. When I looked into his eyes I saw genuine pain. My eyes filled up with tears, my chest restricted, and for the second time that week I became overwhelmed with emotion.
Who was I to be so bitter? I have my family, my friends, my home. This man on the side of the street helped me to realize that I enjoy helping people, whether I am volunteering at a wheelchair tennis tournament or letting a scared woman use my phone. I discovered that everyone needs someone they can come to in times of need. I don’t regret what I did that night. I am glad that I answered the door, and I hope that wherever Melissa is, she is safe and has someone to watch over her.