I would consider myself a person who talks on the phone consistently. On one particular night however, I hesitated. I am ashamed to be one of the 38 people who witnessed the murder of Kitty Genovese. I was lying in the bed of my personal domicile when I heard a lurid sound. The noise surprised me and I looked out the window. There was a man and a woman standing outside. I couldn’t decipher what was going on between the two of them. I conjectured that it was nothing more than a domestic dispute between a husband and wife. It was the time of night when second shift workers were headed home.
Ten minutes elapsed before I heard a second shriek. Frightened I called my sister. She thought it was a joke and made a quip remark. She wined I was always the childish one in the family and hung up the phone. I quickly decided it was time for bed. I was asleep for twenty minutes when the third scream woke me. I was spooked now. I laid flat in my bed and didn’t make a move. I felt like I was breathing too loud. I was sweating. Shortly after my heart rate returned to normal, I heard an ambulance. It was followed by a police car and fire truck. I slipped on my shoes and stepped outside feeling rash and no longer scared. However I knew something was wrong.
There was a rescue worker loading up a woman on a stretcher. He obviated it by covering her with a white sheet and pushing her towards the back of the ambulance. The doors were open. A chubby police officer was meticulously taking notes in his book. He looked tired and confused. Once I finally heard the news, I was stunned. A woman had been stabbed three different times and screamed for help, and no one answered. A few people in my apartment complex had seen the homicide, just like me. We were all guilty of having a lax attitude and not calling the police. To this day I feel at fault for Kitty’s death. I won’t hesitate in calling the police again.