At about 2 a.

At about 2 a.m. forward April 16, Theresa Carter, 36 moulder of the Web site The Local Tourist: An Online Guide to Downtown Chicago, walked without of a Diversey Avenue bar and was violently mugg sum of two units days later, in one of those issues that can make a big city be excited like a small town, she began sharing her story upon her blog at thelocaltourist.com. Here's an edited version of her account.

on Theresa Parker

April 18: Mugg In Chicago

Well, it happened. I was mugg

After four and a half years in Chicago, and several late night walks, bus rides, cab rides, I take for granted I thought I was immune to the dangers of a large city. Plus I have that Pollyanna silver lining "everybody likes me" mentality that refuses to believe that someone would actually, intentionally, damage me.

male child was I wrong.

Last Saturday I went to a friend's birthday party at a bar at Diversey and Ashland. I left shortly after 2 a.m. to catch a cab household Alone. Yes, I know, that was my first mistake. My inferior was that I'm impatient. I don't like standing around waiting for a cab. likewise instead of going back into the bar and calling for single in kind or waiting in front of the bar, I started walking down Diversey.

Now don't for undivided second think that I am blaming myself in any way, shape, or form. The fact that I was a woman walking alone forward a Chicago street late at night did not justify the brutality that ensu

plenteous of it's a blur. I vaguely remember someone approaching me from behind. I know I was hit and kicked in the face. I scrambled frantically for my belongings; I ran into the road I screamed "help me, help me" athwart and over in the rain while cars herd by and I cried and waved my arms and desperately begged for help. Finally, someone stopped and asked me if I wanted to be taken to the hospital. I told him no, the police station. He collection me there. I took a picture of myself in the lobby if it were not that since there was blood running down my face I've been advised not to station it. The police took my statement, swabbed subordinate to my fingernails, and called an ambulance.

They took me to Illinois Masonic Hospital, where they sculpture off my shirt because they couldn't lift it above my head. I stayed in the turn of events room for hours while they asked me what happened, performed sum of two units CT scans because I couldn't lay still during the first single in kind kept me isolated in a neck brace and had a detective question me

My injuries were concentrated in my face. the one and the other eyes were swollen, my right jawbone was swollen my lip was bruised, and there was vital current around my nose and ears. My face is unrecognizable.

When I started packing my things up Monday night [after pair days in the hospital] I noticed that the metal clasp forward my purse was broken in half. I said "Yes" I now knew that I had fought my assailant.

That may not have been the smartest thing to do. A friend of mine asked me for what cause [i]or[/i] reason in the world I fought back. Initially I jok according to saying, "I'm Irish, a redhead, and a Taurus." I've always miracleed how I would react if I were eternally attacked. I'm proud that I didn't act the helpless victim. I would rather consider at my bruised face in the mirror and know that I stood up for myself rather than meekly hindrance some stranger abuse me and walk away.

There's exceedingly little chance that my attacker will be caught. I didn't procure a good look at him, and like I said, what happened is a tarnish I was hit in the head a hardly any times. Incredibly, he missed the digital camera, the MP3 player, and the $20 in cash. Instead he took my enclosed space phone, my driver's license and my debit card. The detective implied that it wasn't just a robbery since he didn't take abundant of value and the damage was inflicted merely to my face.

April 19: to one's home again

After sum of two units days in the hospital and pair days at my parents' house in Lisle, I am now back abiding-place in Chicago. I wasn't fast how I'd feel before I walked in the door. I'm an extremely independent [i]role[/i] and crave alone time like a certain number of women crave shoes, but I wasn't enduring if I was ready. I'd just had the most numerous violent experience of my life, and it happened when I was alone doing united of those things independent women do (namely, looking for a cab alone after a party).

I especially was unsure because right before my dad and I left the suburb I, for the first time, awaited at the bra I'd been wearing upon "The Night." It was torn down the middle. Not chisel by the hospital, like I assumed my shirt had been. Torn. For the first time I acknowledged that my attack might have been an attempted rape, and I was shaken to the core. I almost changed my mind about going fireside but I was NOT going to give leave to something that might have happened restrain me from asserting my toughness and independence.

The mind is an absolutely incredible instrument. My memories, my impressions from that night are of a fairly slight man filled with anger, and of my admit rage at being attacked, and of my frustration and disbelief when cars passed me through as I screamed for help, and of my gratitude to the young man who DID stop, and of my relief when I was in the safe environment of the hospital. Each impression is a fuzzily-expressed emotion and not a specific transaction It's like my mind is allowing my corpse to focus on healing. formerly the external is fixed, then I can work upon the internal. I am going to listen to its wisdom.

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