Sitting in my hotel room, drinking coffee, playing online.
The sounds of a mild argument from what sounds like the room above me start escalating, then fade into the background.
Suddenly it’s not an argument anymore; there are blood-curdling screams coming from the room. I go out into the hallway and realize it’s the people next to me.
I head towards the front desk and a few doors down a woman exits her room with her phone in her hand, staring in the direction of where the fight is coming from. “I was on my way to the front desk,” I tell her. “I thought it was upstairs until I got out here and realized it was next door. I’m going to have them call the police.”
She frowned. “I’ve already called the front desk. They don’t seem to care.”
Screams fill the air between us. “He’s going to kill her.”
We look at each other, look back towards the door where the screams and bangs are coming from. She says “this happened before, a couple weeks ago, he beat the shit out of her and got arrested. I was the only one who called the cops. Everyone keeps telling me to mind my business. I can’t.”
I nod. “I grew up in a house where this sort of thing happened. I don’t take it lightly.”
Our eye contact tells the story between us. “Same,” she says.
Another scream fills the hallway.
“don’t do this, please don’t do this, you know you don’t have to baby, please stop….”
I get to the front desk. “The man in 222 is killing his wife or girlfriend. You need to call the police. Now.”
The front desk agent nods. “Yeah, I got another complaint about that-”
“Call the fucking police right now.”
“Oh, okay. I have no problem doing that. I can do that.”
“Then why didn’t you when you got the first call or heard the screams?”
He plays with his phone for a second, then speaks meekly into it, “I’d like to report a domestic disturbance.”
I head back to my room but stop at 222, where the beating is taking place, and stand outside the door. She is telling him that it’s okay. It’s okay, she’ll never do it again, and she’s sorry she made him do it.
I want to stick around for the police so I can tell them how violent it was, but I also can’t stick around because I think I can’t breathe.