Pageant Question: If you knew that a friend was being abused by a boyfriend, would you report the abuse, even if she asked you not to?

"I can help you."

The voice was soft, genderless.  I kept trying to pinpoint whether it was a man or a woman, but I couldn't decide.  It was insistent.  It wouldn't let me ignore the real issue.

"Get up.  Let me help you."

I couldn't see; my eyes were swollen shut from crying and my nose was closed for business.  I hurt from laying on the floor.  All my muscles seemed sore.

"Tell yourself the truth.  I will help you."

I was sure the people in the other apartments had heard this time.  The walls were so thin, I could hear when the girl in 3 got a kitten.  It mewed constantly when she left for work.  I never saw any of the other tenants.  I knew there was a guy in 2 whose toilet ran every thirty-five seconds.  When I was in the shower, I counted down to when I had to back away from the stream or risk getting burned.  Was the voice one of them?  Did he leave the front door open when he stormed out and somebody came in and saw me on the kitchen floor?

"Now is your chance.  Trust in me to help you."