Different Versions of the Same Truth


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Qualified
You are leaving a movie and are mugged.... This is how you tell the tale to the people in your life

Mother
“My poor baby!” My mother cooed as she forcibly pulled me into a tight embrace. I winced from the pain of my wounds and she quickly pulled away. “I’m so sorry honey,” she said, quietly choking back tears.
“Don’t worry about it Mom,” I said reassuringly, and pulled her into a weaker hug, allowing her to cry on my shoulder. Isn’t it strange that I’m the one who got mugged yet I’m comforting her?
Once she had composed herself she held both of my hands and led me to the nearby couch, never breaking eye contact with me. “So what happened?” she asked reluctantly, still teary.
I gazed around the room as I struggled to find words. Finally fixating my sight on a ceramic pot on the window sill, I began to speak. “Well...um... I went to the movies after work last night. With Jessica. After the movie I left by myself... to bring the car around for her.”
“You finally got your license?” She asked in an attempt to lighten the mood.
“Um yeah,” I stated, giving her a quick smile, and then promptly went back to giving all my attention to the little misshapen pot. I desperately wanted to finish this. “So as I was leaving this shady guy pulled me aside and asked for my money. I gave him everything I had. He tussled me up a bit, nothing major. I’m fine I promise.”
"Nobody saw this happening to you?” she asked, her voice on the brink of breaking once more.
“Not really, it was pretty late at night.” Once again she broke into tears. I knew this was going to happen.


Significant Other
Jessica slammed the door behind me. “Why’d you follow me to the movies?” she asked accusingly, as if I was in the wrong here.
“I didn’t,” I stated, more tired of her than angry. I was too weak to have another fight with her. For Christ’s sake! I just got mugged!
She scoffed. “So what, you just went to the movies by yourself?”
“Yes! Yes I did! Because obviously you didn’t want to go with me!” My voice had a cold edge to it as I tried to hide how heartbroken I was. I’m so stupid. How could I let this happen again, and again, and again? “I bought those tickets for us. Not for you and Will.”
“So I’m the reason you got mugged!? You’re a goddamn stalker!” She picked up the vase of flowers my mom sent for me and threw them, aimed for my head. I ducked and it smashed against the wall, sending shards of glass flying through my apartment.
I slumped down and sat on the floor, bringing my hands to my head. It had been cut and was now slowly bleeding. “Please. Just go.”
“Fine. “ The psycho grabbed her bag from the nearby couch and wretched the door open. This time she closed it less harshly than usual. Maybe she did have some compassion.

Therapist
“Hey, how are you?” My therapist said in her soft, sympathetic voice. She put on a warm, fake smile for me. She wouldn’t want to hear the answer I would give her.
“I’m fine,” I stated dryly.
“So you want to tell me about what happened this weekend? How it made you feel? What you’re feeling now?”
“Well, I got mugged. My mom cried and I think I broke things off with my girlfriend of four years. I’m feeling positively chipper. How was your weekend?” My words were dripping with sarcasm. She obviously didn’t appreciate that.
She sighed and once more she asked “What happened?” She tried to keep the caring tone she had before, but this time she was more demanding. I didn’t say anything. “Look. I’m here to help you. I know you don’t believe that, but I need you to open up to me. It’s the only way we can get through this session. The sooner you do that, the sooner you can leave.”
“I went to the movies after work on Friday night... by myself,” I started.
“Why did you go by yourself?” She asked calmly, analyzing my every word.
“Well, I was supposed to go with my girlfriend Jessica, who I guess is my ex-girlfriend now. I bought two tickets for us a couple nights before, but she said she had plans or work or something. So she took the tickets to give to another friend who wanted to see the movie.” I paused, reluctant to continue.
“I was suspicious of this, so I bought another ticket to that same showing. When I got there, sure enough, Jessica was there with Will.”
“Jessica has been cheating on you with Will for a while now, hasn’t she?’
“Yes,” I said, affirming the painful fact.
“How did you feel, seeing them together that night?”
“I wasn’t so much hurt. It just felt like I had closure. Like ‘yeah, I’m finally done with this mess.’” She quickly noted this.
“You knew that your relationship was finished?”
“Yes. I couldn't see the two of us getting back to a healthy place." She responded by scribbling furiously in her notes, so I continued my tale. "After the movie ended, I left and began to walk home. I was only a little ways away from the theater when a dude in a hoodie pulled me aside and asked for my money.”
"You were scared?”
“A little, but I still didn’t give him anything. He hit me a couple times. I tried to fight back, and then he stabbed me with a knife he had. I don’t remember anything after that. I wasn’t at all like fighting with Jessica.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted sharing them. “Our verbal fights I mean!” I was not about to get Jessica reported. She probably deserved it, but I couldn’t bring myself to do something like that.
"Because you still love her, right?"

"....Yes."

Police Officer
*knock knock*
"Hello, I am here on behalf of the County Police Department. I would like to have a few words with you about the mugging that occurred on Friday, November 18th. We just have a few questions." He spoke loudly and confidently as he forced himself into the apartment.
"Uh-uh-uh sure," I stuttered with uncontrollable nervousness.
"Can you describe the location of the mugging?" He asked as he pulled out a pad of paper and a pen.
"I-I-it was behind the movie theater towards the left. Not quite by the dumpsters. I think there was a flickering light above us. There was a fence to my right sectioning off the creek," I struggled to gain my composure.
"Where did he hit you?"
"He hit me once in the face, a few times in the stomach, and then I think he kicked me a few times in the stomach as well. I fell over and tried to scream, but he stabbed me before I could."
"Are you sure that's all?" He asked, genuinely perplexed.
"Yes?" That was the correct answer, right? Then I followed his gaze. He wasn't looking at me, he was looking at my scars and similar injuries. There was one on my forehead that came from a broken vase. There were similar marks on my collarbone, shoulders, and arms. He was practically mesmerized. After several painfully long seconds he continued his investigation.
"Do you remember anything after that?"
"No, I passed out."
"Did you see him take your things?"
This question struck fear into me. Did he think I was lying? Did he doubt me? Did he think I faked the whole thing? Was I going to go to jail?!
"Excuse me?" He waved his hand in my face trying to regain my attention.
"Y-y-y-es? I mean no! No, I didn't see him take my things," My heart was pounding. His gaze drove terror through my body. Please, let this be over.
"Okay, that's it. Thank you for your time." He left as fast as he came. I shut the door with certainty that I would put this event behind me.
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