My Scary Morning

I’ve been having a time lately as you probably guessed by my lack of posts recently. Things have been stupid-crazy which is why I wasn’t overly concerned last night when my alley was blocked by a police car. I was so NOT phased by this that I didn’t even look out my window last night, because there are four thousand more important things going on in my mind, and it was late and I just went to bed.

At 4am something woke me up, although I wasn’t sure what. I fell back asleep and dreamt that I was at my parent’s house and that their dog was barking. At 6am my alarm clock went off, and I hit snooze and tried to fall back asleep except that someone was talking so loudly that I couldn’t sleep. After a moment it occurred to me that it was strange that someone was talking so loudly, so I got up and looked out my window, which has a beautiful view of the parking lot and alley. I saw a guy talking on a headset facing across the alley and got annoyed until I realized that he was talking REALLY loudly and there was an echo… like what he was saying was coming out of a speaker. I looked around and realized that in the darkness there were many dark figures crouched in my parking lot, also facing the alley. Figures with really big guns. That woke my brain up enough to realize what the man with the headset was saying: “I know you can hear me. You need to come out of the back door slowly. That’s the only way we can help you.”

Oh crap. I sat on my bed. This was a hostage negotiator. This was a hostage negotiator standing so close to my window that I could have reached out and touched his leg.

I did what any other brave young woman would do… I burst into tears and phoned my mum. “MUMMY there’sahostageandtheswatteamhasbiggunsandI’mscaredandIhavetogotowork.”

“Okay,” she said. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re staying away from the window and you’re leaving your lights off.” She told me to check the news, which I did. It wasn’t helpful except that my street was blocked off and that the police had been dealing with “a serious situation” since 6pm last night. What the hell?? So I went and lay down on my bed and listened to the negotiator talk for half an hour. It was all very interesting, in a terrifying sort of way, and I started to really worry. Things got quiet and I looked out my window to see the SWAT guys on the move, backing up in formation, BIG FREAKING guns drawn, and I started to cry again and dove back into my bed. Please don’t shoot someone in my parking lot. Please Please Please.

The negotiator started talking again, sounding slightly more anxious and BOOM BOOMBOOMBOOM BOOM BOOM, gunshots and I sobbed and just KNEW he’d been shot or had shot someone. I knew someone was dying right there, 4 meters from my home, and it was all silent. I just lay there shaking and shaking, but I HAD to get to work, I had to see if it was okay. I looked out the window and saw all of the officers standing by my dumpster and I was horrified. Someone stepped out of the way and I saw them put a man in handcuffs in the back of the police van. He wasn’t dead, nobody was dead. The police milled around for a while longer and drove away after another half hour and the alley was clear, like nothing had happened. I was still so scared that I was fighting to breathe, and I wanted to thank the negotiator because he was so good and so calm. I wanted to thank the police officers for helping keep everyone safe, and for not killing anyone.

I got to work and bought myself a sugary latte and told a friend of mine about it, and he said that he heard on the radio that the guy had let a hostage go at 4am, and he figured that they probably only shot rubber bullets or tear gas to bring him down. I’ve been looking on the web for news, but there hasn’t been any, so that must mean that nobody died, thank God. What a horrible, scary way to start the morning.

Needless to say, I’ve been thinking a lot about this morning. Thinking about the things the negotiator said, thinking about how scared the people inside must have been, the hostage and the hostage-taker. What sort of desperation would drive a person to make a choice like that? How much would you have to lose or gain by resisting people with really scary guns for 12 hours? I really hope that the negotiator was being honest when he told the guy that they’d get him help. I really hope that the hostage has support and help available too. I hope that the negotiator and the officers have warm homes and loving, understanding families waiting for them, and that they understand the virtue of helping this man, and understand the virtue of saving lives, especially after twelve long hours. I hope I can show them that I appreciate that they were keeping watch while I slept a few feet away, completely oblivious to the turmoil. I’m glad that everyone is okay. I don’t ever want to witness that again.

Love,

G