Tracy Chapman in my head

Last night I heard the screaming,

Behind the wall.

Another sleepless night for me,

It doesn't do no good to call, the police.

Always come late, if they come at all.

This is the song I hear in my head when I hear my next door neighbours fighting/yelling. Tonight, I saw the man kicking his grown daughter. I had seen his wife doing so a few years back. I called the police on them earlier in the year when the screaming went on for a long time. The cops did come. Fairly quickly, I might add. I probably live in a better neighbourhood than the one TC lived in when she wrote that song. Earlier this week, loud crashes woke us up at around three in the morning. Found out later that the neighbours two doors down had their car windows smashed in whilst parked in the alley way. Perhaps this 'hood is not as good as I like to believe.

We live in the city and these are the vagaries of doing so. It's a bit much for one week. I am wracked with guilt for not doing anything about tonight's incident. I am a feminist and I should stand up for this woman. I have in the past. The neighbour works for the RCMP and I am afraid of payback. Calling the cops once was nerve-wracking enough. I hope that the girl finds a strength to move out. I hope the boys (sons of the father and mother) do not believe that this is the way to treat women and/or one's relations. I noticed a broken window. I wonder what transpired. Did the girl/woman break the window out of frustration? Anger? The cycle seems to continue in that family. Even the dog is angry, or perhaps just scared. I know he'd be happier with us. Perhaps he has created this fantasy for himself and that's why he barks so much when he sees us.