27 April 2013

And Then There Were 5: Socheata Sits Tight

It's 9.30 at night and Socheata should have been home some time ago.

Concerned after hearing of her assault on the street earlier in the week, I gave her call to see if she was OK.

She was. But she had forgotten her keys and so she was sitting downstairs in the courtyard unable to get into the house. She rang the doorbell once-just once- to try and get my attention.

But she didn't phone me, or shout for me. Nor did she seek help from the neighbours, or check to see if the lights were on and I was up (I was).

She did none of these things; she just sat in sweltering heat, alone, because she felt bad about forgetting her keys. And had I not called, she would have, in all likelihood, stayed downstairs in our insecure courtyard all night with just the rats for company.

It's worrying. Her poorly-developed critical thinking skills, severely dulled by years of institutional-living, could cause her serious future trouble.

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