Unexpected night
When did it become risky to walk home in North Burnaby?
On November 8th, 2008, at 3:30am.
Well, maybe that’s not the exact moment that it became risky, but it was the exact moment I realized it was. Ever since I can remember, I’ve never had a moments hesitation walking anywhere in Burnaby. Hell, I’ve waited for a bus in the middle of East Hastings and have always felt safe enough. I’m sure that was never a good idea, but I’ve never had a run in with a junkie before, so I figured I was safe. Clearly, I’m too trusting.
Friday night was like any other, we drank and went to go downtown to a club. We danced, talked, laughed, hung out, and had a great time. Then, we decided to go home, and who but the really cheap guy decides that he doesn’t want to take the taxi, he wants to take the 135 down Hastings (hint: he writes this blog). So, along with me is my cousin Peter and my friend Laura, and we take the bus and get off at Kensington Plaza and walk down to Peters house. This is a neighborhood that I’ve never thought twice about, I have always felt safe in it no matter what time it was. I have walked down it in the middle of the night on multiple occasions, but unfortunate this time I was not as fortunate.
We turned left on Parkdale, oblivious as to what was to come next, right up to the moment it happened and not a second before. A red hatchback passes us, and it from what I can recall, seemed like a very old Honda, although my cousin claims it was a Volvo, but in any case it turns back the other way. Even at this point, I thought nothing of it, thinking to myself “he must have just taken the wrong turn”. Even as this car pulled over, I figured he went down the street and turned around because he likes his car facing that particular direction when he gets to his house. I was wrong.
The man jumped out of his car, welding a large machete, and bolted towards our direction. I can still remember his face, his body shape, what he was wearing, even though I saw him for only a split second before I turned around and ran for my life. He was a large man, Caucasian, chunky, with a bandanna across his mouth, who yelled a couple of things that I can’t remember, but I’m sure they were irrelevant. As the man continued our away, all I can remember thinking about was getting as far away as fast as possible, and I regret to say, I wasn’t thinking about anyone else. That is, until I heard a large scream from Laura, and at that point, my brain was struggling between survival mode and the mode that would make me go back in a second. Thankfully, my brain didn’t have to make that decision, because while the man had grabbed Laura, she managed to escape right away, as apparently she had looked him in the eye, and all she saw was a confused and possibly drugged up man who didn’t seem one hundred percent there. When she ran towards us, it was the single greatest feeling of relieve I have ever experienced in my entire life. We grabbed her and kept heading towards my cousins house. They did not continue in pursuit. Finally, we got there, and we called the police.
It gave me a lot to think about; it made me question the level of trust I have for people, it made me wonder what kind of sick individual would do something like that, and I also couldn’t stop thinking about there motives. Laura said that when he caught up to her and grabbed her, there was so much he could have done, but instead, he did nothing. There was also another man in the car, he was a black man, fairly skinny, but he didn’t chase us. I continuously wonder what their intentions were, did they do it to scare us, did they do it to rob us, or were truly have the intention of killing, but because they were too fucked up on drugs, simply couldn’t “pull the trigger”. But if something happened to her, we would have undoubtedly gone to help, and all of our lives could have potentially ended that night.
You always see the terrible things that happen to people in the news, and I’m sure most people figure “Wow, that’s terrible! But I’m sure it will never happen to me”. That night made me realize that I’m not invisible, your life is as fragile is the mosquito that you kill without a seconds hesitation. Anything can happen, and so, I just hope that if anything, I can learn from this, and change in a positive way. In the end, I just hope that this experience doesn’t effect my ability to walk the streets without feeling fear, although I’m sure it will for a period of time. In my opinion, the best thing to do in a situation like this is to come out stronger, with more caution, and a greater appreciation of life. Knowing life could be over in a second makes me appreciate what I have at least a little bit more, but a little could go a long way.
