It has been over a month since I was assaulted and I have just been told that the District Attorney will not take my case. The man who broke my jaw and ripped off my ear will never be arrested. He ran from the scene of his crime and will never face justice. They tell me it is due to "conflicting evidence." They tell me that an investigator was put in charge of my case, but she never spoke with me or my only witness. I have so many questions for her but she won't return my calls. Is it because I sobbed a bit on the first message that I left for her? No one will tell me what is in my file or why Officer Tweedie, the investigator, will not return my calls. I spent nearly a day at Houston Police headquarters meeting with every department I could, bounced around Homicide, Internal Affairs, Records...no one can tell me anything except to keep trying to contact this one person. Their words dance around the point they inevitably make: there is nothing I can do.
So here I am, doing the one thing left I can do - telling the world my story. If this had never happened, this strange turn of events that left my hospitalized by one man's random and bizarre actions, I would have gone on believing in justice, in the system, in society's recourse to the law. I many no longer belief in justice, but I belief in the power of words and I want the world to know: I was assaulted in Houston by a man whose name I may never know and the Houston police think that is just okay.