i didn’t go outside

I glanced out my picture window at the grey expanse of a day—overcast sky, white, dirty snow melting, fog rising up in the streets.
I sat with my cup of hot tea, just relaxing after a busy day of chores and running errands.
It was January 15, and the neighbors still had their multi-colored lights up covering their garage.
While Christmas was over, I felt the warmth and presence of the lights, happy to see some in this dismal display in front of me. I read my magazine, happy for a few relaxing minutes to myself, feeling all cozy in my blanket that I had wrapped around me.

A few minutes went by, and out of the corner of my eye I saw a grey SUV pull up to my neighbor’s house across the street.
I didn’t flinch in my chair.
I didn’t recognize that car, but it could have been a delivery driver.
I went back to reading my magazine and decided to stretch for a few seconds—that workout had made my muscles feel quite tight.

And then I saw two masked men dressed in camouflage with what looked to be guns get out.
I stopped stretching, got out of my chair, and stood by the window.

I quickly grabbed my phone and snapped a few photos, ensuring I got not only them, but their license plate.
I watched as they approached the door of my neighbor’s house, hitting it hard with their fists.
They waited a few more seconds, then knocked again.
I was frozen at my picture window.

I started to inch away from the window, thinking about how I would have to grab my jacket, gloves, and scarf as it was only 10 degrees out.
I would risk frostbite.
Could I get out there in time?
I wasn’t sure.
What if I put myself in danger?
That wouldn’t be helping anything.

Lost in these seconds of contemplation and hesitation, I lost sight of what was happening outside.
When my gaze reconnected, I noticed that the door was open—someone had answered.
She was partially covered by the door.
And then the masked man grabbed her arm, pulling her outside.
She was dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants.
It was only 10 degrees out.

I realized I wasn’t outside.
I hadn’t grabbed my coat, but instead I was standing frozen still by the window, just watching.
Safe.
Nothing was happening to me.
I wasn’t in danger.
I hesitated.
I didn’t go out.

I saw a car pull up, people filming the officers, yelling something.
My neighbor, Ana, was in handcuffs.
They were pushing her into the SUV.

I finally rushed down my steps to my front door, no longer caring about my jacket, my hat, my gloves.
I slipped on my shoes, opened my front door, rushed down my sidewalk and driveway, flailing my arms.

But I was too late.

I had waited too long, in my warmth, watching, hesitating about getting my coat.
I was only wearing a thin long sleeve shirt and knit pants.
I felt the frosty chill go through them as I saw the SUV drive away.
The other witnesses put their phones away and jumped in their cars to follow them.

I was left standing in my driveway, cold, fingers feeling numb, lips chapped.
I had just stood there earlier, feeling afraid inside my house, watching Ana being pulled from hers.

I had been too worried about getting my coat on, drinking tea.
She had only a t-shirt on in 10-degree weather.
They didn’t seem to care.

But did it look like I cared at all either?
I wasn’t sure.