Home Adulting The Man with the Broken Face.

The Man with the Broken Face.

The Man with the Broken Face.

I’ve been living in a world these last few days, littered with the beeps and whirs of hospital machinery and the continued feeling of fear and dread.

Many, many years ago I was the victim of a horrible assault that has played a significant role in my life, however I never thought living through someone else’s experience would impact my soul far more. Last Thursday, while I was at the gym, the Boyfriend was assaulted in front of our home in our quaint little suburban condo complex and while he’s recovering steadily, I will never be the same.

What happened?

Simply, he approached our neighbor’s son and his friends to stop setting off fireworks in the courtyard. A group of liquored up teens featuring about six boys ranging from the ages fo sixteen to almost eighteen. Words were exchanged. The pack became heated and the Boyfriend was jumped by the group with two focusing on bringing him down. And they did. Kicking him in the head. Bringing him ‘one more hit away from’ losing his life.

The Phone call was the worst. He called me. Sounding incoherent and unaware of how to phone for help himself. Not putting together a full sentence. Unable to tell me what he had experienced only able to say, ‘those kids’. Home seemed so faraway that night. Less than a mile seemed like forever to drive. Arriving home I was met with four Sheriff’s black & whites and a SUV – all immediately uncertain of what had truly happened. A call about illegal fireworks, a call about a fight in the complex and one from me about an assault. All about the same group of teens. They followed me as I walk-ran to our courtyard. Blood on the walkway. Foliage from the bushes everywhere. Smears of blood on the wall. I have never prayed so loud in my head before. As the key turned in the lock, I yelled for the Boyfriend. Nothing. The Sheriff’s walked in behind me and then pushed past me. My heart stopped. If even for the briefest of moments. I know it did.

His face was beaten. Blood everywhere. The words that flowed out of his mouth made every moment seem longer than the next. Listening to him tell the whole thing swirled my brain. Long and short of it. He asked them to stop setting of fireworks. He tried to get back into our unit. Moments later he was on the ground taking a shoe to the head. Literally, I can’t stop imagining it in my brain and it aches. While there is more to the whole event, it’s an on-going investigation so I don’t know if I’m allowed to share the nitty gritty. Heck, I don’t even know what really happens next. This was last Thursday, and we haven’t heard from anyone from the Sheriff’s unit that was involved. I phoned and got a few details of what might happen next but nothing satisfying.

No one came to the Emergency Room while I was watching this happen from afar but yet right next to his gurney. There were no CSI-like folks with tackle looking boxes to swab under finger nails or take pictures of his injuries. Only EMT’s in training and amazing ER staff to help attempt to clean up his constantly bleeding wounds and assess his physical state.

I’m horrified to post the images of his face that I took. I simply cannot subject everyone to what his face morphed into after almost five hours in the ER. I’ve never been the point person on something like this. Up close and personal. I’ve been the child watching horrible things happen while my Mom dealt with the truth that comes from physicians too soon or without full merit. Even after emergency child birth, this was an experience that has rocked me to my core. After spending five hours in the ER and kept company by a wonderful friend, I went home to grab a few items and rinse off and found this…

I can’t sleep. I have barely eaten. I’m back on coffee too. I’m not able to stay in my own home. Those teens are still coming and going as they please. While I am cleaning up the aftermath of their mayhem they are walking around my complex without a care in the world. No folks it’s not like you see on TV. Evidence is left to be photographed and cleaned up by someone else. Juveniles who cause seven facial fractures to someone’s face roam free until further notice. Stealing money from a man’s wallet while he’s incapable of figuring out which house is his now apparently gets a pass until after the weekend. Leaving a terrible wake of injury and heartache is left for me to mop up.

Due process is truly more hurry up and then wait and see what happens. 

We’ve been advised by friends who have experience in these things that it’s just a matter of time. The more time that goes by and the more I can’t seem to grasp how this happened.

My family has been without question the awesome. Our friends have been the light at the end of the tunnel. I can’t thank everyone enough who has visited the Boyfriend while I ran around to make sure life as we know it doesn’t stop and our Monkey still had an amazing birthday. I’ve spent most of this time by the Boyfriend’s bedside and I just want him to be home.


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