Journal Entries
Things and Stuff and Crime
Posted Dec 9, 2002
Hey, guys.
I've gotta few things weighing on my mind recently. They all stem from the burglary of my house that happened the Thursday before Halloween. Here's what happened:
Around 9:30 in the morning that day, a guy knocked on my door. Joe had already gone to work. This guy asked if someone lived at my home who didn't. I don't remember the name - I figured he was looking for the house behind us at the end of this dead end street, since those people just moved in a while ago. I left about 15 minutes later for an eye doctor's appointment. I came back about 15 minutes after that because I had forgotten my money for the exam. I left my truck running because I was just gonna run inside to grab my money and leave again. When I got out of my truck, I noticed that my door was opened. I knew I'd closed and locked it. (This is the dumb-as-doornails part.) I pushed open the door, without going inside, and shouted, "Who the f**k's in my house?!" I saw the barrel of the gun go through my kitchen doorway first, followed by the guy who was holding it. The same one who had knocked on my door earlier. I backed up to my truck and considered jumping inside, but I wasn't absolutely positive I could get in, shut the door, put it in gear, roll up the window (that seemed an important thing at the time), and drive off before he could shoot me. He asked me if I had any more money, then he told me, "I need you to turn off your truck and come on inside with me." I just looked at him like he was speaking a foreign language. He repeated all that and I finally reached in my truck and turned it off. I grabbed my keys and wallet (still not entirely sure why) and turned around and ran towards my neighbor's house. I didn't look back - didn't want to see him run after me or point that gun and shoot at me. I can only assume he ran away when I did because he wasn't in there when the police arrived. Thank goodness my neighbors were home! And thank the dieties that I live only a few blocks from the police station. Within minutes, there were 9 cop cars in my driveway and on the road around my house. And another 6 or 8 driving around the neighborhood. They didn't catch him that day. I've never been so scared in my entire life.
He ran off with almost $500 and Joe's shotgun. He was caught about three weeks after the crime. His name is Vincent Mitchell and he's 16 years old, a student at the high school I live just down the road from. He skipped school that day to rob two houses, including mine. He was working with 3 other boys doing a string of robberies in my area, though he was the only one in my house. I went to the bond hearing for this boy; Joe and my father came with me. He has a $50000 bond on him. Although he only has to post 10% in order to be released until his trial, I don't think he'll be able to make that anytime soon. Until he can, he'll rot in jail (hopefully, with a big burly roommate named Buttercup who'll teach him just how nice and close one can get in jail). He will be tried as an adult, on several charges: one count of 1st degree burglary, one count of attempted armed robbery, one count of attempted kidnapping, and one count of petit larceny (because the value of the things he stole was under the amount needed to declare it grand larceny).
I know he's in jail and there's not a darn thing he can do to me. And I know that Joe has lived in this house for 6 years and nothing like this has happened. But, I am scared to be in my house alone. Every time I try, I get tense and start at every noise. I drains me like nothing else, the effort of staying in this house alone does. When anyone is here with me, it's not a problem. I sleep fine as long as Joe is home. Everyone keeps telling me that I need to seek counseling and I keep hoping that I'll get over it.
Ah, well.
Take care, all you people. I'm going to bed.
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Latest reply: Dec 9, 2002
My first....Journal entry :)
Posted Sep 12, 2002
Happy day to all and blessed be.
It's technically September 12, but I haven't been to bed yet, so it still feels like 9/11. I managed to miss all the media blitz about the 9/11 anniversary by the simple process of not turning on the TV. It helped that I had to work a closing shift tonight, so I could sleep all through the morning.
Tomorrow night (that would be Thursday), I get to go see a local band who are just great. They're Jump, Little Children. And they play a little bit of everything (guitar, bass guitar, drums, cello, bass, mandolin, accordian, violin, flute, fife, and all sorts of other things) as well as all their songs being different, unlike some bands I've heard where each song sounds quite the same as the last. Matt's songs are the best (especially the one entitled 'Body Parts Are Nice'! They're from Charleston, SC, but they play a lot here in Columbia. If you get the chance, you should try downloading some of their music. 'Cathedrals' is another really good one - slow with great vocals. And watching them play 'I Love My Guitar' is fun - two of them get on one guitar and one does the fingering and the other does the picking. Neat-o.
That will be the highlight of my day off. I also get to help a friend move out of her adoptive parents' home. Rica's mom died while she was in high school, and her dad could only take care of her two little brothers. So Rica went to live with/was adopted by the parents of a friend of hers. Her half-brother, William, went to live with an aunt and her older sister was old enough to be on her own. I lived with her half-brother for a while, actually, once I graduated college and we decided that we needed to not live with our parental types anymore - my brother moved out with us, too. That was fun. So, now Rica is in college and living with the same aunt William used to live with and her adoptive parents are moving away. That'll be the majority of my day off. I think it'll be fun.
After two years of working at my bookstore job, I've finally gotten my first formal complaint about me from a customer. He was an ass, anyway. I broke one of the cardinal rules of retail and tried explaining ~why~ I couldn't do what he wanted me to do. He took it as sarcasm. I think our vibrational waves were not in harmony. Nothing I said was right or good enough. At the end of it all, I told him "Have a nice day, Sir." You know, standard stuff. How was I to know he thought that that phrase was stupid - that no one knew what it meant anymore and therefore was devoid of meaning. That's all ok, though - the manager he talked to thought he was as much of an ass as I did and we had a good laugh about it all.
I think that's enought typing for now!
Enjoy the night.
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Latest reply: Sep 12, 2002
Lissa
Researcher U199812
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