Presenting Flashback Friday, a feature wherein I’ll be looking back at an event that happened to me or around me and sharing it with my dear readers. The purpose of this feature is two-fold: 1) I help myself remember specific events by writing them down so that I never forget them, and 2) I hopefully supply my readers with some interesting reading material so they can know more about me and why I do things that way I do.

A Christmas Break In

Since it’s fairly close to Christmas, I thought I’d share a story with all of you about a very interesting night shortly after the 25th of December.

So it’s between 3 and 4 in the morning. Everyone in the house is sound asleep and probably dreaming about their presents and such. The house is warm, comfortable, and quiet. Quiet, until I wake upon hearing a loud thud.

Now, when I first heard this thud, I immediately believed it was something falling down. “Ah well, someone will pick it up in the morning. Time to go back to sleep,” I thought. Wrong. I heard yet another thud. Then another. I heard one of our speakers in the living room fall to the ground and then shortly after that I heard quick and clumsy running down the stairs close to my room, and then another set of stairs down to the basement. This is when I started freaking out.

I got up out of my bed real fast and ran up to my door. I was just about to open my door when I realized I should have some sort of weapon with me. You know, just incase. I quickly looked around my room. The very first heavy and hard object I noticed was my guitar. I picked it up and placed it over my shoulder as if I was holding a baseball bat. I was ready to open my door. But just before opening my door, I thought about my one and only guitar. I didn’t want to break it. So, I put it down, opened the door and ran straight upstairs to my parents’ bedroom.

Looking back, the funny and at the same time not so funny part, part about me running up straight to my parents’ bedroom is that I didn’t think to wake my brother up. He’s in a room right next to mine. I should have woken him up before running to my parents’ bedroom. I guess you just don’t think too clearly when confronted with a situation such as the one I was confronted with.

I raced up to my parents’ bedroom, knocked on the door, swung it open, and woke them up. My dad grunted and groaned. My mom looked at me with incredulous eyes and asked what the hell was going on. I told them everything I heard and that I had reason to believe that someone was in our house. Someone we didn’t want there. My mom laughed and told me to go back to sleep. She said I was probably dreaming. I explained again really quickly and persuaded them to come downstairs to find out what the hell was going on.

We walked down the stairs, past a speaker on the floor, past our front door now missing it’s frame, and past my room where we peered into our basement. The light was on. My dad and I were ready to go downstairs to find out who or what was down there. My mom pleaded for us not to go. So we woke up my brother and went back into the kitchen.

I called 9-11. This was the second time in my life calling this number. I called and said something to the likes of, “Hey! Hey! Listen, I think there’s someone in our house. Someone broke into our house. We live at … please come now! NOW! NOW! Come now! Bring cops! JUST COME! FUCK! Come now! Please!”

I was really excited by the whole situation and I wanted it resolved. The lady on the phone talked me to relax. She was definitely right. I needed to relax. I was way too excited. It was hilarious.

A few minutes after my call, between 5 and 10 cruisers were on my street at 4 in the morning. It was amazing. We opened the door to the police officers and told them where we believe someone was in our house.

Best part: the cops told us to wait outside in our pyjamas while they searched the house. Right as we agreed to this, they took our their guns and proceeded to carefully enter our house. Again, with their guns drawn. It was awesome. Haha.

We were cold. We were in our pyjamas outside in late December. No, we weren’t cold. We were freezing. We got into our car, turned it on along with the heating and sat and waited.

A few minutes passed. We then saw the cops coming outside of our house with a foreign body. He was being dragged out by the cops. He was hunched over so we couldn’t even see his face. I just know that everyone in our family was filled with hatred towards him. He had violated our space and our sleep!

After dragging him off to a cruiser, a cop came back and told us what he believed happened: this guy was just a really old drunk. He had come from some party and was trying to get home. He came upon our house and believed it was his own. He literally broke through the door by slamming his body against it until it opened. He was just trying to get home. Our home I guess looked pretty damn similar to his. I somehow do not believe that.

After all of this, a woman police officer came over and asked us to give her our statement. We complied. We just wanted to go back to sleep and forget this ever happened. Although, looking back at it, it was hella funny. Anyway, she asked us if we wanted to press charges. We decided not to since any damages would be covered and since he was just a drunk and probably didn’t need any more trouble coming his way. If we saw him in our house again though, that would be a different story.

The end!