Yesterday, a friend asked me “Is T dead? Did you ever run into to him?”
The answer is,
I do not know…and no.
Sometimes I will be out, running errands, and think I see him out of the corner of my eye. It is a mix of emotions between being scared, wanting to hide, to me being all like “Bring it on, I need to have my say!” However, none of that has happened.
However, there was a day. One day, when I was able to get a small fraction of revenge.
It had been about a week since he left, trashed my apartment, and left me with no way to pay rent. I was still hurt, mad, and bitter. His mother was useless. Telling me he was at a youth camp providing service to teens in need. Please. Your son was most likely a cause of many teens being in need.
I was alone in the apartment. Feeling sorry for myself and still having so many unanswered questions. Reliving the past year of my life. The abuse.
The thing is, the emotional abuse is so much worse than the physical. A black eye? Easy, you ice it, makeup becomes your best friend. Bruises on your arms, you wear long sleeve shirts! Being called a whore, fat, worthless, that stays with you.
This moment in the apartment, when I was left to my own devices, was a turning point for me. I slowly turned my pity party into anger. Anger with both myself, and T. I needed revenge. I knew that I had to have some kind of “F you” but because I had no idea where T was, I was limited on my resources, I just knew that for once, I had to do something for me. Right or wrong, I had to do something for me….and I did.
It will come to no surprise to anyone reading this that T had a couple of warrants out on him. It will also come as no surprise that more often than not, he would have a weapon on him. Even though I had no idea where he was, if he was still even in Wa. I knew his routine. His daily routine. I had nothing to lose, but so much to gain.
I made the call to the non emergency police number. I remained anonymous, and informed them I have some information on someone who has a few warrants out. At exactly 6:05 I knew he would be at the bus station picking up his mother. The same woman who looked down on me because I was not an Islander. The same woman who kicked Christin and I out of her house because she did not want her friends to see the white girls. My mind-set, “yeah, let this bitch see her son get locked up.”
The police asked if he had a weapon on him. “Oh, I am pretty sure you can count on that!” They wanted his social and license plate number. My parents did not raise a fool (although this particular blog may not be the best to showcase that.) I had it all, his social, his license plate number, I had it all. Happily, I provided them with everything they needed.
Of course the police could provide me no information on what their plan of action would be. I just knew. It was a feeling, I knew this would be my only moment, and I had to act on it. I made arrangements with Alphonso to keep an eye on the boys. There was no way I could tell Alphonso what I was doing. He would either talk me out of it, or would want to tag along. I had to do this on my own.
At 5:45 I was at the bus station. I parked my car in a secluded area while giving myself a perfect view of the buss’ entering the station, and I waited.
5:55 I saw T’s car. I saw him park in his usual spot. He got out, smoked a cigarette, just like I knew he would, while waiting for his mother. Many times before, I would be sitting with him in the passenger seat while waiting for the bus. This time, this time it would be different.
I do not remember the exact time, but it happened. Three police cars circled him, with two more in the distance. He tried to fight, there was no way. They frisked him and lo and behold, there was something in his back pocket. I am assuming the gun. Even watching this go down, a part of me was scared. I had visions of him looking up and seeing me there. Those feelings were quickly over shadowed by feelings of a small victory. “Yeah asshole, you may have won the battles, but I am winning this war.”
As soon as I saw the police drive away with him in the back of the car, I knew I was good. I did not care what would happen to him, or his mother. Both of them put me through hell, and although it may sound petty to a select few, I needed this moment. It was my moment, and no one was going to take it away from me.
I saw his mother coming off of the bus just as T was being put in the police car.
I made it back to the apartment feeling like I had my closure. As soon as Alphonso saw me, he knew something was different.
“Where were you, what’s going on? I know something is going on!”
I just gave him my cute, “something is up” Jen smile.
“I really cannot leave you alone can I?”
The boys were asleep, Alphonso and I took our drinks outside on that unusually cool July night, and I told him everything.
A night I will never forget.