We went back to the old house last night to get some stuff, and discovered that a 14 year old had been shot in front of our old house Wednesday night. Apparently he fired into a crowd of people in some gang related thing, hitting two people. When the police responded, he turned the gun on them and they shot him.
Needless to say, Charlie and I are both freaked out, Charlie to the point where he vomited in his sleep from nerves last night. We just moved out on Saturday. We had originally been planning to look for a place that started August 1, but some lucky bit of instinct and intuition told us we need to get the hell out of there, as soon as we could.
And obviously, we're fine. Shaken, but unharmed. But this wasn't a surprise. It was a long time coming, and up until this incident the police more or less ignored the constant cries for help from the community.
Our front neighbor is terrified, and is trying to get out of her lease. She has six and a half months left, and the landlords aren't sympathetic to her justifiable fear. I've told her to get a lawyer, and that if necessary we will help her find one. Because we may have had our issues with her, but no one should have to live with that, and as a young single woman she's especially vulnerable.
We'll still have to go back, to get the rest of our stuff and to clean up at least a bit. We're going in the mornings only, and bringing friends. And for today I'm making Charlie stay home from work, and we're going to spend time together. I feel so, so lucky.