Bad memories

I had this really weird episode of PTSD this afternoon. There's a couple in the building across the way that are in an abusive relationship. I've heard them in the dark, fighting in the parking lot, a few times. They sounded a little drunk. Occassionally the cops show up at the building in the middle of the night. Once there was four cars. I never saw the couple until today.

They were outside this afternoon. I was watching from the deck. He was inside their pickup truck, so I couldn't see him. But she was standing on the passenger side, with the door open. I couldn't make out the words but there was a lot of hollering. He would shout and she would shout back and then they both would be quiet and she sat on the running board. Then he would start up again, and she would stand up and shout back.

She was young and blonde, with a pony tail. I didn't have my glasses on, but I could tell she was looking right at me when she sat down. I could feel her fear and conflict. She was me when I was that age.

At the height of the argument, he starting gunning the engine and backing up. She stood her ground. I thought he was going to mow her down with the open door. I started flashing back to all the times I thought my first husband might kill me in just such a fight as that.

I wanted to tell her to run. To just flee. Now. Before it gets worse. And it will get worse. It always does.

Instead, I memorized the details of the truck. Just in case.