Oh wow. A friend of mine was viciously attacked, in her apartment, while she slept, and barely escaped with her life. Some fuckhole broke in, stole her things, and then stood over her, with a gun to her temple, and savagely beat her. As she ran, he fired two shots at her. I can't stop crying. This woman is hard-working, fun-loving and the sweetest lady that I know. Although, she has a terribly biting sense of humour, which is clearly what draws me in. She is fantastic. This crime would still be horrific, even if she was an asshole.
This woman was as vulnerable as it gets. She was asleep in her bed, inside her home. And this vermin very nearly killed her. I don't know how the shots fired at her missed, but thank whatever deity you believe in that they did.
I want to buy her a dog. A big, loud attack dog, like a German Shepard or a Doberman. I want to call my step-dad and ask for one his big game hunting guns. With the bullets that leave a hole the size of a plate. And stand watch over her, so she won't be scared to go to sleep. I want to punch every guy I see in the nuts. I want to track this scum down, and beat him so that my handprints show up days later. I want to do something. But I can't. I can't do anything except for type furiously.
I feel insignificant and helpless, because I am.