The Unexpected 2

Having described what happened when Alan and I were attacked in our garden, I have tried to examine how I felt at the time and why I acted as I did. The image that comes back to me now is the moment when I realised one of the two men walking into our garden had a knife. I can see his face, dark-skinned but not black, round head, close-cropped hair and stubble round his chin and cheeks, the arm in dark clothing pointing forward at waist level and the glint from a dark metal blade. Then I can remember nothing until I felt the blade on the left hand side of my neck and realised the man was behind me. The overwhelming feeling was that I must escape to get help. I stood up and ran, screaming for help. As I banged on our neighbours’ doors, I was afraid of what was happening to Alan. I had visions of the two men standing over him while blood dropped to the ground. I began to panick when no one answered my cries.

Next one of the men ran out of our front door and along the small street, carrying my handbag. I continued to run in the same direction still seeking help, but as I did so , I became aware the robber was running towards a car parked round the corner of a a garden. I followed him, determined to get the number of the car, wanting something that would help to identify our assailants.  I continued to repeat the number out loud, as I ran back towards our garden, Then a sense of relief finding Alan on his feet by our front door. He wrote the number in our visitors book. Our neighbours by now were all outside and the incident was over.

Those few seconds seemed like a life time, cancelling my credit cards and barring my mobile phone took more time. Putting my identity back together, obtaining new cards, new driving licence and  getting a new phone working properly has taken the last two weeks. No doubt it will take longer before the assault becomes a distant memory. I don’t think I will ever forget it.  It’s ironic really as I spent a lot of my working life representing similar young men, but then again I’ve witnessed so many violent kids snivelling in the corner of a cell, because they are about to go to prison and that gives me the strength to fight back at them. I know they are bullies who crumble as soon as someone stands up to them, but it is a risk and one better taken when there is an escape route for both you and them. Luckily we were uninjured.

On a positive note it gave me an insight into how the victim of a crime might feel and the range of emotions they might have, so I can use that in my writing.