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As I was saying, I was bleeding profusely and had to try to stop the bleeding but I also felt like I needed to keep from cleaning up too much. The police should gather evidence, I reasoned, so that they could convey the evidence to a prosecutor who would try this person in court and dole out justice for me.
Like any victim, I had called 911 because... "what else does one do?"
I was worried that I might have gotten some of her body fluids on me. I knew I was the only one bleeding but during the attack, maybe she had spit or expelled something from her mouth or nose and maybe it was on my cuts.
I was not living far from the Durham police station and so the arrival of the police did not take long.
I had mentioned that this was a drug-infested neighborhood and I had seen prostitutes who would find their way into the house and seek to sell their bodies for as low as $10. Anyone who would do that was living an unhealthy life and probably trying to get money for drugs. Maybe that would explain why this perpetrator had done something so crazy.
Why else would some woman lock themselves in a room with a guy and then physically assault that guy?
She had asked why I keep calling her. She was clearly confused or so it seemed. That made no sense. I had responded by asking her "who are you?"
As I thought about these events, I realized that she must have been wearing a ring, maybe a diamond ring to be able to do so much damage, to rip open my face so badly. If that was the case then she couldn't be one of those prostitutes that were so desperate to sell their bodies for $10 to get a fix.
So, who the heck was she?
Within a few minutes, the police arrived in response to my 911 call. I don't know how much time had taken for them to arrive but again, the residence was not more than 10 or so minutes fom the police station.
I heard sounds outside my door and realized that the police were entering from the front door to the building.
The first police officer held out his hand saying, "don't come too close." I understood what he was concerned about. He didn't want my blood on him.
There were two police officers that arrived.
[ As an aside, when we find out what the perpatrator did after victimizing me, it will become clear that the story she had been telling the police could not possibly be true. I am getting ahead of myself so bear with me so that you can come to the same conclusion.]
The police officers started taking witness statements. This is important to know. No one that the police spoke to had seen her previously or had any idea who she was! No one had a clue as to her identity. No one claimed that they might have seen her previously.
I went over the details of what happened with the police. I said that I was expecting someone. My friend, who I was expecting might not have known where to find me and so any female voice seemed like the woman I was expecting. I explained that the person I was expecting was a black lady.
I had heard the words outside my door "where's Bruce?" This was what I was explaining to the police who first responding to my 911 call.
I explained to the police that because I was expecing someone when I heard my name, I poked my head outside the door to my apartment and said "I'm Bruce." Perhaps a part of me registered that this didn't sound like my friend because I might have otherwise answered "Hi, I am here" instead of "I'm Bruce."
I stated the same thing to the police officers, that I had no idea who she was. I described exactly what happened and how it happened. At least they were not chastising me for letting her enter my apartment. They seemed to understand that I was shocked and that everything happened too fast for me to react.
I heard more than one witness state that she had left without a scratch. They weren't inside the room when the perpetrator was attacking me but they saw that she left the place without any evidence of having been harmed in any way during the assault on me.
The police went about the process of gathering evidence, including witness statements. It was clear that the residents had just been arriving from work and so their account of what happened was valuable. Not a single resident recognized her.
I remember the police asked if I wanted paramedics. Obviously, we needed an ambulance to come and treat my injuries, my cuts. However, I asked the police officer if they should first photograph my cuts or injuries.
I suppose they should have also photographed the bloody clothing as well. I am not a police officer and so I am just trying to imagine what would be necessary for the prosecutor who would pursue justice in court against the perpetrator that had harmed me.
Looking back, it's a sad fact that they did not take photographs of the cuts on me. It would have been very helpful to have a record of how I looked while I was still bleeding. It would also help to have a record of the bloody apartment.
Again, I was the victim and I had to trust that the police know how to investigate a crime scene.
While I was still in shock over what had transpired, even I was thinking that photographic evidence would be needed. I have no experience with law enforcement but it just seemed to make sense. I had been expecting the police officers to have a camera for this sort of thing.
Before I knew it, the ambulance had arrived and they were attending to my cuts and injuries before the police had taken photographs. The police had NEVER taken any photographs during the entire time they were there - they left without taking any photographs.
Then I heard a phone ringing in my room. I had not noticed previously that she was carrying a phone. She must have dropped it. That is why she was trying to get back into the room.
I gave the phone to the police officers saying "this might help you to find who did this to me."
I explained to the police that she had said something bizarre that made no sense. She had nearly yelled "why do you keep calling me?"
I explained that my immediate reaction was that was to ask "who are you?" but she never answered that question.
This was already very bizarre. She had known my name. None of this made any sense. What woman locks themselves inside a room with a guy and then attacks that person? Repeatedly, over and over she had punched my face.
I had not noticed anything that would indicate why she was able to slice open my face and cause me to bleed so profusely. Usually, when I saw females in the hallways at the apartment building they were looking like they were on drugs and willing to sell their bodies for a fix. None of them wore diamond rings capable of slicing open my face, obviously.
Only after the ambulance came with the paramedics did the bleeding stop.
I had been expecting the phone she left behind would help us to find out who the perpetrator was. The story is about to get much stranger, though.