Act One: At 6:30am the next morning I was awakened by the sound (and sight!) of a man rummaging around on my front porch. As I have experienced this before, I pounded on the front window and yelled at the intruder, "GO AWAY! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!"
I was acting on impulse. I was angry and not yet fully awake. To my absolute surprise and terror, the intruder totally ignored me. He didn't flinch or glance my direction or even acknowledge that I'd just pounded very hard on the picture window and screamed at him. He just kept digging through the storage closet. I was officially freaked out. What was he on that he was so zoned out?
I ran across the living room and grabbed the cordless telephone. I started shaking so hard it took me three attempts to properly dial 9-1-1. The operator asked all sorts of questions as I cowered behind the front door, out of the line of sight of the front picture window that I had "bravely" pounded on a few minutes earlier and PRAYED OUT LOUD that my three wee ones would not wake up. Suddenly, the intruder began fiddling with the front door. The bottom door handle turned...
The door was bolted, but apparently I had not locked the bottom door handle. I became slightly crazed.
Me (whispered screeching): "He's trying to come in the front door! He's trying to get in to my house! I am home alone with 3 small children!!!"
9-1-1: Is the door locked?
Me: Yes! No! I mean it's bolted but the bottom lock isn't... (pause, silence... CRASH!)
Me: Oh my God. Help us! He's slamming his body against my door. Where are the police? How far away?! I'm home alone. I need help!!! (commence semi-hysterical crying)
9-1-1: Stay with me. It's okay. The door is locked. The police are on the way. Take a deep breath.
Me: What?! Okay, okay... OKAY! I'm calm!!!
9-1-1: What is he doing now? You're my eyes and ears. Can you see or hear anything?
Me: I don't want to go to the window to look. I can hear him but I can't see him. I'm still behind the front door.
9-1-1: That's okay. I'm here. The responding officer is almost there. Let me know when you see the squad pull up. I will stay on the phone until they arrive.
Me: Okay. (rapid breathing, pause for a few tense, eternally long minutes)
9-1-1: The officer should be pulling up right now. Check the window. Do not open the door. (Seriously?! You don't need to remind of what is on my porch. Cautiously creeping out from behind the front door towards the picture window)
Me: Okay. Wait! The idiot is curled up on the chest freezer in my porch. He's twitching... I see the officer getting out their car. Thank you! Thank you so much.
9-1-1: You're welcome. I'll hang up now.
As the office approaches my porch door, my face is anxiously peering at him as I wildly point to the intruder twitching on the chest freezer next to my front door.
A few dreadfully long minutes later, the officer came up to the door to talk to me. Apparently the intruder is a 19 years old man-boy who was drunker than a skunk. He thought he was “crashing at his cousin’s crib”. Oh! And it gets better... the officer informed me, before they arrived, the freak managed to vomit all over my porch.
The joy of it all! I had the honor of being terrified by a man trying to break into my house AND I have the privilege of cleaning up the scoundrel’s puke.
But wait! The best part is yet to come...
Act Two: Same morning. It's now about 8am when I hear a neighbor pounding on my front porch door and advising that I need to come out to see Husband's car. As if I needed more excitement, my neighbor shares with me what she and her husband just witnessed.
At about 8am, three young thugs drove up and parked in front of my house. Two passengers walked up to my porch (which was now locked) and pounded on the door. When they could not get on to the porch, they began walking around the outside of the house and tried to look into some windows. (I’m assuming the thugs were looking for the drunk because they possibly thought he lived here?)
When my second set of visitors could not get into the house, they took a sledge hammer to two of my husband's car windows before they peeled off. The neighbors who witnessed the events had been enjoying a morning cup of joe, when the car pulled up. The husband immediately went to get dressed and grab a coat to see if he could "assist" my visitors. Unfortunately, he didn't catch the thugs license plate before they broke the car windows.
The police think the two events are related to each other but not to my house. It all seems so random and ridiculously difficult to comprehend. We have lived in our house for just over 7 years.
I have no idea how we’re going to pay for the car windows. I wish the freaks would have broken my mini-vans windows – at least we have glass coverage on that vehicle, but no such luck with Husband's vehicle. ARGGHHH!
A very MASSIVE THANK YOU to my bestest friend and neighbor, CP, who graciously came over to the house after Act One and fed the children breakfast while I dealt with lots different visiting police officers. Another MASSIVE THANK YOU to neighbors M & S who came to my rescue by providing important info to the police about the thugs car and helped me clean up all of the broken car glass. Thank you, thank you, thank you!!! I really appreciate all of the awesome neighbors who make my neighborhood worth it!
Life is full of blessings. Thankfully the wee ones slept through Act One and were upstairs during Act Two so they were completely oblivious about the entire horrific events. As a reminder, it doesn't matter where you live, keep your doors locked and outside lights on.
P.S. After all the glass was cleaned up and all the police interviews finished, we promptly received over 14 inches of snow in under 24 hours, which left us with THIS!
Yes, I had to shovel most of it myself since Husband is traveling on business travel in sunny, gorgeously 70+ degree weather.
No comments:
Post a Comment