I just wanted to vent a little over recent events that I don't really know how to handle. There's a girl that lives nearby, or lived anyway, that I don't know. I've seen her around the apartment complex and would always secretly count myself lucky to live next to such a cutie but she was rarely ever home. I heard her crying once through the wall in the middle of the night and felt bad for her. From the arguments I heard a few times I figured she had a fight with someone over the phone. I'd like to have said something to her but seeing as we didn't know eachother, it probably would have seemed pretty creepy on her end. This was all a few months ago. Just recently, I came home just as she was stepping out. I was watching tv a few minutes later when I heard yelling coming from her apartment. It wasn't yelling but I keep telling myself that. I thought it was a little weird at first and wondered if there was an argument going on over there or if maybe the noise was coming from another apartment. It went on and I started feeling nervous when I stopped and listened hard because it sounded more like screaming than yelling. I didn't want to get in the way of some lover's quarrel or something but figured I'd knock and just check to make sure. As soon as I left my apartment I noticed her cat was outside, had lost its shit and is running around the walkway. The cat has never been outside the apartment before. The door to her place bursts open and a guy flies out of there, slips in something and turns my way. I give him a ? look and he flips a hoodie over his face and takes off. I go over to her door and am about to knock when I hear her sobbing inside. She's on the phone telling 911 that she just got raped. I go down the way the guy left and see footprints of what he slipped in, turns out it was piss. The guy is long gone. I've never felt a heavier sense of personal failure in my life. Apparently the guy followed her home, assaulted her and ran out while I sat there watching television for most of it. I was physically stronger and faster than the guy, and let him get away because I took ten years to figure out what rape sounded like. Her father actually came to my apartment the next day to shake my hand and thank me for 'chasing him and describing him for the police'. I told him you really couldn't call what I had done chasing and he was still grateful saying 'you did what you could'. Fuck. I've never wanted to kill someone so badly. I've mentally run through a million scenarios where things could have gone differently and that piece of trash could have been sitting in jail right now and it always comes back to 'but that's not what happened'. This ended up being a lot longer than I thought it would be. I just wanted to say it all somewhere to try and do something about this constant unease I can't seem to get rid of. I can't understand why this feels so much like fear when all I can think about is destroying him. It feels like I'll never be able to get over this if he doesn't get caught. If you made it all the way down here, thank you for reading. If there's anything you think might help, please let me know.