I haven’t been able to walk for several years now. I used to think that losing the ability to move independently would be the end of my normal life. Yes, it’s hard—it hurts physically and mentally. But I’ve learned to cope. I accepted my condition and decided: I will keep living as much as possible, without locking myself away between four walls.
Thank God, we live in a world where people with disabilities are respected, helped, and where conditions are created for a normal life… But unfortunately, that’s not always the case everywhere. Sometimes you meet people for whom you’re just an excuse to vent their anger.
Recently, something happened to me that I still clearly remember.
That day, as usual, I went shopping at the nearby supermarket. I don’t like to depend on others, so I try to handle everyday tasks myself: choosing products, going to the post office, paying bills. It gives me the feeling that I still control my life.
I was rolling between the aisles, carefully looking at the products. The basket on my lap was already half full. Turning into another aisle, I accidentally bumped the wheel of my wheelchair against a man’s foot who was standing with his back to me.
“Sorry,” I said immediately, stopping. “I really didn’t see you.”
It seemed like a normal situation: you bump into someone, apologize, and move on. But not this time. The man spun around sharply and literally exploded with anger.
“I don’t care about your apologies!” he shouted so loudly that people at the other end of the aisle turned around. “Who’s going to pay for my treatment, huh? You injured me!”
I tried once again to calmly explain that it was an accident, but he seemed to be just waiting for an excuse to lash out. His face twisted, and he started hurling insults:
“Because of people like you, the world is going to hell! Weak, useless trash! You live at the expense of normal people!”
Every word cut me deeply, but I understood that arguing was pointless. His shouting attracted store employees, and someone had already called the police.
A few minutes later, two officers entered the aisle. They listened to us both, exchanged a glance, and one of them suddenly said:
“Sir, please come with me.”
I was stunned.
“What?” I asked, feeling indignation boiling inside me. “So I’m the one at fault? Just because I accidentally bumped into him?”
I had no choice but to follow them. We went outside and headed toward the patrol car. I was mentally preparing for humiliation, long questioning, and maybe a fine. But on the way, I couldn’t hold back and asked:
“Tell me honestly, why did you take me and not him? He was the one who started the fight.”
“Sir, this man is a dangerous criminal. He has multiple convictions for assaults and fights. He has served time, and according to our information, he has a quick temper and a vengeful nature. If we had left you there, he could have come back to get revenge on you. At the moment, we have no legal grounds to detain him, so we decided it would be safer if he thinks we arrested you. Then he won’t look for you.”
I fell silent. I felt a chill. Realizing I had stood just a meter away from a person capable of violence sent a cold shiver through me.
The officer added:
“Cases like this have happened before. He served his sentence but apparently hasn’t changed.”
Since that day, I no longer take risks. I stopped going to stores and order everything to be delivered. It makes me sad—I always valued being able to participate a little in normal life.
But now I know that even the most ordinary trip for groceries can turn into an encounter with a danger you didn’t even suspect.
Leave a Reply