Wednesday, February 27, 2013
"Sólo Me Empuje"
"Sólo me empuje."
That's all she kept saying to me as she stood at the edge of the building. Sadly, I don't speak Spanish. Yes, I have lived in Los Angeles my entire life and Spanish is spoken here more than English but I've never bothered to learn it. I slept through Spanish classes only picking up bits and pieces. I can tell you that I don't want to wash dishes and what time it is but that's it. This woman looked terrified and I couldn't figure out what she needed me to do. I took a step towards her and she began to shake. I took a step back and she began to cry. I didn't know what to do.
You ever hear someone cry for help in the middle of the night and do nothing? I do. I'm the kinda guy that closes my window. I hear a neighbor beating on his wife and put the pillow over my head until its quiet. I hear a scream in the middle of the night and instead of calling the police I turn my TV up. But tonight was different. Tonight I responded to the scream.
It was a little after 1am. I had been asleep a few hours. Maybe after 10pm. I get up early for work and Monday is the busiest day in the warehouse. I heard heavy footsteps in the hallway and then a thump. I opened my eyes and then heard a scream. Normally I would've gotten mad and rolled over angry that my sleep had been disrupted. But tonight, like I said, was different.
"Matarme antes de que hace!"
It was a woman's voice. She sounded scared. Very scared. Not "there's a spider in my hair!" or "a dog is chasing me!" scared. She sounded "something is trying to kill me!" scared. I sat up in bed and threw a pair of jeans, a sweater, and sneakers on. I ran to my door and stopped.
"What exactly do you plan on doing?" I asked myself aloud. I looked around for a weapon. The closest thing I had was my wrist weights. They didn't look very threatening but they weighed 8lbs. each and added a lot of power to a punch. I placed them on, crossed myself, and headed into the hallway.
None of my neighbors had opened their doors. They're the smart ones. I heard the door leading to the roof slam shut and slowly made my way there. I tested my weights again and opened the door. As I opened it I heard the outside door slam shut. Damn it, what am I doing? Everything in my body is telling me to just turn around, go back inside, and lock my door. But something about her scream…
I creep up the stairs trying not to make a sound as I do. I get to the door and kick it open, ready for whatever happens. I wasn't ready for what I saw. I stand there for a moment and look at her. She is standing at the edge of the roof. Her red dress looks like blood in the moonlight. Her dark hair looks almost like a hood.
"¿Se te vio?" she says.
"I'm sorry, but I don't speak Spanish" I tell her. She looks over the edge and then back at me. I inch closer to her and she looks over my shoulder at the door I just exited.
"Tienes que me empuje!" she shouts.
"I don't know what you're saying" I say. "Just come down and I will try to help you" I tell her while walking closer. It's not until she starts to slide one of her feet that I notice she is barefoot.
"Pulse antes de que me viene!" she cries.
"Miss, I don't know what you're saying but whatever is wrong it cant be so bad that you're gonna jump from the roof" I say. We're twelve stories up. If she jumps there's nothing anyone can do to save her. "Just take my hand and I'll help you."
"Es casi aquí!" she says as she turns her back to me completely and bends her knees. I rush to her and she spins, almost losing her footing.
"Jesus!" I shout as I reach for her. She starts shaking. I back away and she begins crying. "What the hell is going on?" I ask. "Why are you doing this? Tell me, damn it!"
"¿Puedes por favor me acaba de empujar?" she says.
"What are you saying?" I ask. "What is 'em-poo-har?" She smiles for a moment and then…she's gone. I run to the ledge in a pathetic attempt to rescue her. I watch as she becomes smaller and smaller. I want to close my eyes but cant. I want to cover my ears but don't. Even from this distance the sound of her hitting the ground is audible. Suddenly the door flies open.
A man wearing a long black coat, black leather shoes, a white tie, and a black suit stands in the doorway smiling. His smile makes me feel crazy. Like if I stared too long that I would go insane. He walks over to me and I raise my fists, ready for combat. He laughs. His laugh sounds like something from my childhood. Something heard when everyone was asleep but me. When all the lights were out and the only thing left was the sound of your beating heart and fear.
"Did you do it?" he asks me. His voice is making me feel sick.
"Do what?" I am barely able to ask.
"You didn't do it" he says as he smiles and closes the door as he leaves.
"What didn't I do?" I ask. "What was I supposed to do?"
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