THE CRAB DIARIES: NO LAUGHING MATTER

LARGO, MARYLAND (1990’s)

It has been so long since I remember this situation, but I remember what I saw and who I saw.  I barely remember who was with me when we saw this happening in front of us, but I can say seeing her years later doing her thing made me feel somewhat good.  However, I have no idea what mental scars she is or had been dealing with since that day, but it seems like from the outside she’s doing pretty well.  The situation that I am referring to is witnessing a girl, average age around early twenties, being pushed out of a car and left on the side of the road in our neighborhood.  I only remember seeing a black car, sedan, speeding through, opening the rear door and girl being pushed out of the car.  Then the car sped off to never be seen again.

When we saw this happening, you can imagine our young minds couldn’t make out in detail what was going on.  A few of us went sprinting up the street towards her to see if she was okay, which she was, but didn’t expect to see the condition she was in.  Once we got to her, we could see that her pantyhose were ripped, snot or mucus bubbling out of her nose, laughing uncontrollably, feeling sad and then happy, her blouse was ripped, missing a shoe and noticed that a few toes were broken.  I have to say this was something none of us have ever seen before, but we knew that she needed help and that we needed to make sure she didn’t come into anymore danger.  I have no clue what would’ve happened if the car came back to either finish her off or to get rid of witnesses.

I don’t remember when the help got there, but I remember her being picked up by the ambulance crew and hauled off to the hospital.  Either county or state police responded, but I don’t remember anything of the interview and what was asked.  I just know that we left the scene feeling good about ourselves because we felt like we just saved someone’s life.  After that day we never saw or heard anything about her for months and even a few years.  All of us remember seeing her around the neighborhood numerous times, but we never really interacted with her on a regular basis.  Then one day, years later, I saw her walking down the same street we found her on in a work uniform, listening to headphones and just minding her own business.  I often at times wanted to approach her and talk to her but not knowing if she would even remember or want to rehash the situation.  So for the longest time I would just see her walking down the street and not even talk to her about it or if the people involved were ever caught.

I don’t regret not ever knowing about her resolve with the whole situation, but I was just happy to know she continued to do her thing.  Many months and years later I’ve moved up north and don’t know if she is still living in the same neighborhood.  I just know her name as either Tori or Lori, but outside of that I have no clue of her well-being.  I think at the moment we found her it was our first time we saw a victim of a sexual assault and possibly drugged out of her mind.  Years later I can still hear the laugh she was bellowing out, mumbling words and her lying on her back just rolling around.  No one should have to witness that and especially young kids who are still gripping about how to feel about themselves and gain their own personality.

Henry Scott

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