Returning from Sabbatical (I)
Back in October
I experienced two traumatic events that made me step away from blogging for a
while. I tried jumping back into writing, but it was evident by my inability to
form sentences around my ideas that I needed time to heal my mind and body. I could
not focus on creating content when I was suffering mentally. I felt it would be
disingenuous to write about growth when I was dealing with the unimaginable. So
here I am, ready to write. Ready to share. So, let’s begin.
On my way home
in mid-October. I was stuck in rush hour traffic, the buzz of the city all
around me. I was on the phone with my boyfriend when I saw two patrol units
driving past me. In mentioning the units, I told my boyfriend that it’s never a
good sign when you see two patrol cruisers driving together.
Within minutes, while
stopped in traffic, sirens were blazing around me, helicopter above circling
around as they do when they are searching for someone on the ground. I was
startled by the amount of activity surrounding me. I immediately called my
boyfriend and asked him to turn on the local news in an attempt to obtain
information as soon as I could. To my shock, the news was not covering the
circus unfolding around me.
It is terrifying to be trapped in this kind of situation. It’s the kind of event you witness on the local news living in Los Angeles or something out of a movie. I surely was not expecting that I would be living it.
As the traffic
light cycled through, there were cars proceeding with caution and driving through
the intersection to get out of harm’s way. I waited patiently and nervously as
the cars ahead of me crossed the street, hoping that I too would be able to get
away from the danger around me. When it
was my turn, there was a loud clash. It was hard to see what was happening
since the sound came from up the street. The car ahead of me stopped abruptly
before entering the intersection and in those few seconds I witnessed a person
being dragged across the road as the perpetrator sped off in the bystander’s
The thought of witnessing
a person’s final moments is an awful sentiment, but witnessing it is
paralyzing. You see what is unfolding in
front of you, hopelessly, and know deep down that the person will not survive
the injuries they are sustaining. You stare in horror as cops race by and pray
that the person will be okay. An inkling of hope goes through your body as you
plead out loud for the driver to stop and save this innocent bystander. But
that does not happen. They cannot hear you and hope is fleeting. I knew the
fate of that person before I read the headlines or saw the update on the news.
The driver was pursued
by authorities for a mile until they crashed, ending in a standoff until they
gave up and were arrested. The innocent bystander had been carjacked when the
individual authorities were in the process of trying to arrest crashed their
vehicle, which was the clash I had heard.
Unfortunately, the shock of witnessing such a horrific scene put my body into overdrive. Before nightfall, my body would begin to miscarry the little nugget I unknowingly was growing.
Photo Credit: All pictures are Mari Rey Originals.