It makes me ill at heart

(yes, this is going to be a long entry).

My family has owned our property for 50+ years. It is the same for most of the people on our side of the street. Our homes and cars are well kept, our lawns should be featured in Better Homes and Gardens. Our “side” of the neighborhood is beautiful.

Across the street is a different story. Twenty or so years ago most of the people sold their homes, died off or moved away. All of the properties on that side of the street were bought up by some sorry scumbag landlord. Since then it has exchanged scummy landlord hands dozens of times. With each exchange the property decreases in value, the inhabitants get nastier and nastier and yet the city does nothing- which in turn has decimated my property value. These shitty landlords keep the “homes” just barely above condemnation standards. I wouldn’t make wild rats reside in these HUD-like wigwam shit holes.

As I mentioned, the inhabitants of these condemnable rat nests are no better than their surroundings. These people have no standard of living; most of them are ex-felons that have no concept of cleanliness and are in general disgusting examples of humanity. Seriously, it’s like a third world country over there. They sit outside all night long, burn garbage (Yes, I’m serious), drink (off that monthly welfare check they collect), yell, blare music and beat the shit out of each other. Those of you who read my blog fairly regularly have already been introduced to one fucker in particular that lives over there. That fucker is a very important part to this story.

We learned a long time ago not to call the police when they‘re out there drinking, yelling and fighting. We‘ve been threatened that if we do call the police, our home will be burnt down, we’d be physically assaulted, our dogs shot or poisoned, our cars broken into etc. etc. etc. A few years ago one of the shitfuckers over there actually threatened to rape me if he caught me outside checking my mail because I’d made the mistake of calling the cops on him for beating his wife. Needless to say, we try to keep to ourselves (everyone on this side of the street does) unless a situation arises that absolutely warrants our involvement (like our intervention with the kitten). Oh, or when child services leaves a card on our mailbox because they are openly investigating the shitbags that live over there.

So. Late Friday night the fucker across the street was at it again. Now keep in mind, this is the same house of assholes that tried to kill Kaz and the same house of assholes investigated by child services. The loud music and hollering started around 11pm. At 1am D and I went out on the back patio to smoke (we don’t smoke in the house). The music was still blaring and this guy was still outside hollering…at nothing. He’s just standing in the street yelling “WOO-HOO!!!!” at the top of his lungs. D started to get really angry. He told me he was going to go over there and say something. I told him you can’t reason with a drunk, the guy will get tired sooner or later and shut up. I told him to leave it alone. 2am rolls around, D and I were finished watching (through the blaring radio across the street) the movie we rented and were ready to go to bed (we both had to work Saturday). The guy is still out there showing his ass and D wanted to call the police at this point. I convinced him to ignore it and go to bed. If the police were called the same thing would happen that happens every time the police are called. The music would be shut off until the police leave, ten minutes later they’d crank it back up (louder than before) and walk down the street yelling “Whoever called the fuckin’ law is gonna regret it”. Same thing. Every time.

Somewhere around 3:30am the music was turned off (or down to a reasonable level where I couldn‘t hear it word for word 100 yards away in my bedroom). All was quiet in the neighborhood. Temporarily. By 5:30am eight hundred cops, three detectives, and the county coroner were on the street roping it off. My first thought was one of two things probably happened: 1/ the fucker drank too much, passed out on his back and aspirated on vomit or, 2/ someone had finally gotten a gut full of the bullshit and shot him to shut him the fuck up. Whatever. I wish I had been right.

And here’s where it gets bad. Really bad. On my way to work later in the morning I stopped at the corner store to buy a soda. I asked the cashier if any cops had been in talking about a suicide or murder on my street. She said that the lady they just hired a few weeks earlier for the overnight shift- who also happens to live in the same house as fucker- had been called at 5am and had to leave. Apparently her 3 month old baby had died. I freaked.

All day long at work I thought about that poor little baby, Kaz, child services and that fucker up all night blaring the goddamned radio whooping and hollering in the street. By the time I got home I had thoroughly convinced myself that if I had just let D call the police at 2am maybe that fucker would have turned off the radio, gone inside and paid attention to what was going on with the baby. After agonizing over it with my dad I called the police and spoke to the lead detective. I told him that jackass had been up all night partying and raising hell. I told him I knew they had been investigated by child services but still didn’t call the police over the loud music because of the threats. The detective told me that they knew what had gone on and that fucker wasn’t in charge of the children (he insinuated that another adult was in the home at the time of the baby‘s death). He went on to say that even if the police had been called it wouldn’t have changed the outcome; the baby still would have died. I asked if it was SIDS, he said he couldn’t say because the coroner report wasn’t in but he could say that they were not investigating it as a murder.

Sunday’s paper had a tiny blurb in it that read: “Baby’s death unsuspicious. Foul play is not suspected in the death of an infant early Saturday morning, the JSO said. Police responded to a home on the ---- block of (my street) around 5am. The cause of death is undetermined and is being investigated by the Medical Examiners Office, police said.”

And now to yesterday. Same fucking house, mind you. There’s a young boy that lives over there (the former owner of Kaz). He has a pellet rifle. I’ve gotten on to him twice about not shooting at birds or squirrels (I found a dead squirrel in my yard last week). He was over there yesterday shooting at a target on the ground (I guess my threats of calling the police got through). He set the rifle down to go get something and I shit you not, the three year old that lives there walked over and picked it up. The woman sitting outside watching them did nothing. Absolutely nothing. I stood there completely fucking floored. A baby died in that house not 24 hours before and she’s sitting there allowing a three year old to handle and play with a high power pellet rifle. Un-fucking-real.