Three nights ago around 3:45 a.m. I woke up to someone shouting "Help me, police!" over and over, immediately followed by a gut-wrenching moment spent trying to figure out if I'm hearing a drunk asshole or the next Kitty Genovese. As I tried to make sense of the voice (which was of indeterminate gender and repeating "Help me, police!" at a nearly constant timbre and volume), it became clear that this person was running back and forth in front of the building.

Then I heard another voice obviously belonging to a good Samaritan say, "Can I help you?" and I felt guilt-ridden relief that someone else was handling the situation.

The first voice said, "Get away from me!" and went back to the repetition of "Help me, police!" again, only now interspersed with the occasional "Help me, Kiki!" This went on for a while, until "What do you need, ma'am?"

"Help me, police!"

"I am the police."

"No, you're not."

Oh, yes he was. Even from my bed I could see the blue and red flashing lights.

"Please sit down"

"Help me! Help me! Help me, Jackie! Help me, Jackie! Help me, Jackie!" And then cries to the police and Jackie and Kiki gave way to an almost continuous "Help me, God!"

"Do you want to go to Harborview?" That's Harborview Medical Center.

"No. Help me, God!"

"Where do you want to go?"

"Home. Home. Help me, God!"

The voice of a second police officer said, "What's that in her hand?"

"I can't tell. What's in your hand?"

"Help me, God! Help me, God!"

"Is that a knife?"

The second officer again: "It looks like a knife."

"Put down the knife."

"Help me, God!"

"Put it down."

"Help me, God!"

"Put it down."

The first officer, the one doing most of the talking, was calm and gentle up to this point, but now I heard an edge.

"Put it down!"

"Help me, God!"

"If you don't put it down, I'm going to tase you."

[I chase away the horrible thought that this entry - and by now it certainly will be an entry - could be called "More about Electricity". I am a terrible person.]

The second officer: "Put down the knife!"

I can hear a scuffle, and then a popping, frying sound, and yelling.

This whole time the second officer has been shouting, "Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!" and I'm almost certain this is directed at the woman, not his partner. In any case, I hear the sound of running and a quick resumption of "Help me, God!"

A second round of popping and frying comes from what seems like the next block. The voice is still saying "Help me, God!" and the tone is surprisingly unchanged from when it first started. I can hear her, quieter because of the distance, for another five minutes, until presumably she's taken away to Harborview.

Then all I can hear outside is what must be one of my neighbors watering the plants. The sound of the spray is soothing, and I can understand why someone might decide this would be a good time to take care of the garden we all share. It occurs to me that he could have been the first person who offered help, so I revise the scene I've imagined around what I've just heard to include the bystander I forgot about as soon as the police arrived. I think about the woman, and I wonder if I've seen her in the neighborhood before. And finally I'm just trying to escape my own ghoulish fascination with the whole episode when one of the police officers returns and speaks to my neighbor.

"Did you find a taser cartridge out here somewhere?"