I feared. I feared for my life and safety. Every time I saw the fat man with the tattoos on his arms, my skin crawled. His voice, the way he spoke made me nauseous. I was criticized and insulted. I was on the point of calling the police several times; one time the phone was snatched from my hand when I was about to dial 911. His girlfriend, the landlady, took it away from me. I told several people to no avail. I lived in that rooming house for as long as I could. If I stayed it was for the sake of the cats. I didn’t know what else to do.