I woke up at midnight to the screams of a woman outside my domicile. I walked over to the window facing the street and slowly pulled back the curtains. The woman was not there. Three minutes elapsed. I heard the screams again. I conjectured that the woman was trying to play a joke on my lax neighbor. His name was Josh and was the only person in the apartment complex under the age of 30. He had a knack for women, but had no intention of having a relationship. I sporadically heard the screams throughout the night. At one o’clock in the morning, I finally fell back asleep.

I woke up to the sound of sirens at seven o’clock in the morning. I walked towards the window that faced the street and slowly pulled back the curtains. The sun burned my eyes. After thirty seconds, my eyes were able to focus on the lurid scene across the street. I grabbed my sweater and rashly ran out the door. Police officers inundated the street. The ambulance arrived seconds after I stepped out the door. Crime scene investigators meticulously examined the block. I stood still on my front step while EMT’s and police men ran around trying to contain the scene. Ten minutes later, a police officer by the name of James confronted me. “Miss, can you tell me what happened last night?”

I did not make a quip statement. I simply said, “I heard the screams.” I paused. “If I would have called the police after the first scream, I could have obviated this situation.” I sighed. “I could have saved that women’s life.”