3) #### Commonwealth Avenue.

Penny and Alex had seen a flyer I�d hung around Allston advertising I was looking for a new living situation. Penny called me and we made an appointment to meet.

The apartment was on Com Ave across from Star Market. It was absolutely beautiful. High ceilings, huge bedrooms, hardwood floors. All of the appliances were new and nothing was falling apart. There was even a porch. The rent was basically the same amount as I�d paid at Melrose Place. Although that was still really steep for me as I was making seven bucks an hour, it was cheap compared to the going rate in Allston.

I immediately liked Penny. She was bright and bubbly and Southern. She was a music student�a virtuoso pianist who also played the trombone. She knew everything about jazz and was a writer to boot.

Alex was her live-in boyfriend. The first time we met he was wearing a Dallas Cowboys football jersey, which should have clued me in that we were on different wavelengths, but I was too excited to notice the bad vibe.

After the initial roommate interview, Penny and I wound up talking and smoking pot for several hours. Alex fell asleep on the couch.

The next day they asked me to move in. I was thrilled. Life was stabalizing. Things were feeling normal again.

I moved in on September 1rst. The arrangement began beautifully. I had a great friendship with Penny, and Alex and I were decent roommates; we were cordial and kept out of each other�s way.

Then the shit hit the fan.

Alex was a diagnosed manic-depressive. He�d had one psychotic break the year before which lead to this diagnosis. He�d spent some time in a hospital, but since then everything had been going ok. Supposedly there was nothing to worry about. I knew all of this before moving in and it didn�t bother me. My mother�s first career was as an ER psychiatric nurse, and through her stories and having met some of her patients I developed a great deal of empathy for people who are mentally ill. I myself was diagnosed with major depression as a teenager.

But Alex was different. It wasn't just that he was crazy. He was also a total fucking bastard, and would have been a total fucking bastard whether he was crazy or not.

And he was violent.

I noticed Alex�s behavior becoming more and more erratic as the weeks wore on. He began hiding the telephone in his bedroom and took to lecturing Penny and I on the wonders of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Often he was rude and sometimes he barely made sense. He became increasingly paranoid. If Penny wasn�t there when he got home from class, he would telephone all of her friends and accuse them of turning Penny against him.

Things came to a head one November evening. Penny and I were chatting in the living room when Alex walked through the door. He didn�t say hello, and it was obvious he was in a bad mood. He went into the kitchen to make himself a sandwich and noticed there were crumbs on the counter. He got himself a glass of water before storming back into the living room. That�s when the yelling began.

I am so fucking sick of this place being a fucking pig sty..

I was completely stunned. Penny, who had the patience of a saint, spoke calmly.

Alex, you need to chill so we can discuss this rationally.

Which was perhaps not the reaction Alex desired.

So he threw his glass of water at her head.

You fucking bitch

And then he shoved her into the bathroom and I heard her screaming. And I heard the sound of his fist making contact with her body.

I grabbed the phone. I dialed John�s number.

Something is very wrong and I don�t know what to do

What? What�s going on?

Alex is crazy. He�s...

I shook all over and my heart skipped through my body like stones across a lake. I was dizzy and strange as though experiencing an allergic reaction. I disconnected from myself. Part of me floated up through the ceiling and into nowhere. I was another person looking down on myself and everything as it unfolded. I was a scientist studying a trapped animal.

Alex came out of the bathroom, grabbed the phone from me and yanked it out of the wall.

Don�t you dare call the fucking police. Don�t you fucking dare call the police or I will fucking... you will not like what will happen to you.

I stood there staring at him mouth agape, and wondered whether or not he was going to kill me. He could do it if he wanted to. He was huge. He could have snapped my neck in half. And it could have happened. I could be dead right now. And none of you would be reading this.

I don�t remember much after that. I didn't die. He didn't hit me. Somehow I wound up at my friend Eric�s house. Angus and Meg and Krist were there. I guess I took a taxi.

And we called the police.

I wish I could say that I moved out of that apartment right away. But I didn�t. I felt like I had to protect Penny. Which of course if ridiculous. I wasn�t even capable of protecting myself let alone her. So I stayed until we got evicted.

The Management Company got wind of the whole police situation, and we�d been late once or twice with the rent. Plus, my application to be on the lease was denied because as far as the company was concerned I wasn't rich enough to live there, and I�d had bad credit during college. So they gave kicked us all out.

I had no money to put down on another apartment.

So guess what? I was homeless yet again, and boy do I have some good stories to tell you about that.