How I broke open the door to the staircase
How I ran my way down while he chased after me, spewing words so toxic they would rot my brain.
“Not the time to cry, Crystal. You have to run.”
How I thought
“This is the end of me”
Getting under a man who I thought was my friend
Getting pushed off the stairs by the guy I threw a party for, to help him get over his breakup
Getting killed by a man I grew up with.
I stumbled, fell, and crawled
But I made my way to the ground floor
And wailed like a lunatic
When I heard the sirens coming from afar
When the police came
I couldn’t even string words into a sentence
“Give me a statement” “I can’t open a file unless you tell me what happened” “Oh god another night, another drunk girl” “Your friend said you have a mental disorder and drank too much. He said you drink all the time but this is the first time you took off your clothes and started running and screaming and ended up on the pavement topless.” “Your friend sad we should get you on an ambulance since you couldn’t even tell us your name.”
How cruel.
For him to use my history, betray my trust and still dared to call himself
My friend.
I gave my statement the next day
And I won’t forget the cold stare of the inspector
“You would’ve slept with him if he was a bit more good-looking right?”
No. I have a boyfriend.
“Could it be you drank a little too much and gave the poor man wrong signals?”
No. I said no.
“How much do you think he weighed?”
Probably 100kg.
“You know, he could’ve just done it. So why didn’t he just get his way?”
I pushed him off.
I pushed him off.
I pushed him off.
I pushed him off me before he could get in me.
I said no.
He wanted to grab me and I ran off topless.
He was a liar and I would have never consented to this.
I could not give consent in this condition anyway.
“I’m being real with you. This is he-said-she-said, this won’t hold up in court. You should just go home and rest.”
All the bruises.
All the pictures you have taken.
All of the cameras on the street.
He-said-she-said.
“You will need to repeat everything in court, it will hurt a lot. Maybe you should reconsider taking this path.”
No. Open a file, or I wont leave.
I need to see a file number.
So they opened a file.
For two years, they called.
“He is not in Hong Kong.”
“We can’t do anything.”
“Think the CCTV in San Po Kong stopped working that night, we couldn’t get the footage.”
“It’s been two years, maybe we can close the file? When are you free, I’ll drive to you to get the paperwork done.”
But how my hands shook
When a real friend told me he is back in this city
Was the warrant a lie?
How my hands shook
When I called the police and told them to find him
Please.
Find him.
They found him.
“Sorry, we got a team to arrest him. But he won’t admit anything. He must be a dodgy guy to run off after the case. Though I must say the case will not hold up in court at all since we can’t do much after two years.”
So that was it.
I should’ve let him.
So there would be part of him for them to collect.
I didn’t cry while my heart break into a million pieces.
They closed the file.
And he left the city again.