Sounds like an awesome title of a book, right?
Like one you’d see with a picture of a bandit on, creeping across the cover
But it is not, it is my life
Ok so that was a tad dramatic
Actually, it was my life
On Friday, 15 September, roughly between the hours of 3am and 4am, my house was burgled
Not in your classic they-took-the-tv style but more so they-were-in-the-room-with-me style
Not long after the burglarly happened, I tried to do a post but it was all too real, at the time & what seemed like writer’s block was just uncertainty
Who would listen to my cry?
Would people actually stop to listen?
Not respond with it-also-happened-to-me?
Let’s jump 5 sentences back, did you read that? Like actually read it? Not skim over it like one of the many politically incorrect or crime ridden stories that circutales on the regular?
Although I am not very good with words and hardly ever grammatically correct, let me attempt to paint a picture
I have a 3:30am alarm, it alarmed, I switched it off & not long after that, I saw someone in my room; naturally I thought it was my dad
<jumping straight to the juice>
I awoke, startled, at 4:03am (*I assume), only to frantically but still very tiredly search for my phone to no avail. I stare at the desk, wondering why it looks as barren as my lovelife only to realise that both my work and personal laptop are missing.
I proceed to the parents room (I hope you have caught on that I now live with my folks), check mom’s phone, it’s 4:07am; I proceed to where they sleep and very calmly say “Daddy, my laptops are gone”
Mom and Dad jump like spring chickens, dad very cautiously goes downstairs & voila, we’ve been burgled!
I will not tell you what they stole because that is not important. What is important is that a week later, I DREAD going to bed this evening. It does not feel like a week since this happened. It feels like a lifetime ago. Like it did not even happen to me. I will tell you, though, how amazingly calm I am. Even when it happened. Even now. I guess I am telling you this because it could’ve been worse.
Had I died, no one would have known because……life; one of the many reasons though
So although I might not be as riverting or grammarticarly correct as the other bloggers you follow, I am real
Just like them, my stories are real
They might not always be long but that are to the point
“Dear Lord, stuff isn’t as important as some people think. Help me remember that the things I own aren’t as important as the person I am becoming. Amen”