It’s 4:30AM and I can’t sleep.
This may or may not have to do with the fact that the police were just in my house.
They were here because I called them, because I was convinced someone was in the house, because I might be losing my mind.
I woke like lightening to the sound of footsteps and the ruffling of a bag in our tiny two-bedroom house located in East Austin. My roommate wasn’t home and no one else has a key to the house, so my mind began racing. I didn’t know what to do- I was petrified– so I did what any logical terrified young girl would do and checked my Facebook and Twitter profiles. Some friends made comments about a photo of myself I posted earlier in the evening. They said I looked like MILF and that made me smile- even though I’m not a mom.
After getting lost in the adulation of my sexy mom poses, additional footsteps snapped me back to reality and I knew I had to think fast. Scanning the room I saw I had nothing of weight or intimidation to attack the perpetrator with, so I grabbed my Swiffer mop and froze like a blinded doe waiting for the impact of a forthcoming vehicle. I listened for a break in the footsteps and ran like a steam engine out of my room- Swiffer mop a ‘swingin’.
No one was there. Not a human, not a mouse, not even a cockroach.
This did not deter my positivity that something was in the house, so I went into the kitchen and grabbed the biggest knife we had- an Ikea paring knife. Armed with my Swiffer mop and Ikea knife, I walked towards the front door, ready to bolt into the night at the sound of any more movement. I heard my roommate’s door open and I certainly bolted, down the street, in my silk robe, my Swiffer in one hand, the knife in the other. I stood on the street corner shivering as I dialed 911.
Before I finished sharing the details to the 911 dispatcher, the police were already at my house. They told me to drop the Ikea knife and sit in the back seat of the squad car. They walked into my house, armed with much more than a plastic rod with a static sheet attached to the end of it. I sat in the cold, hard backseat, my knees shaking, waiting anxiously for the perpetrator to run out of the house with police in tow. What felt like an eternity passed, until finally one of the police officers came to let me out of the backseat.
“Uh…there is no one in there”, he said to me.
“What?! That’s impossible!” I said, “I know I heard someone!”
I entered the house and did a walk-thru with the police officers. There was indeed no one in the house and nothing had been touched.
The conclusion we came to is that there was a raccoon or possum underneath the house and because this is an old Sears catalog home from the 1930’s, noises under the house sound like they’re under your face. This does not explain the door opening though. I asked the cops if my roommate’s door was open when they entered and they said no. I shook my head in disbelief. “Is this how schizophrenia starts?” I quietly thought to myself as I smiled and apologized to the police officers. They were sweet and understanding of my overreaction and smiled as they quietly thought, “This chick has baaaad morning breath.”
The police are now gone and I’m left to my thoughts about what just happened. The initial adrenaline has now been replaced by embarrassment as I realized there is a good chance a boob or two popped out of my robe as I shook like a Chihuahua in the frigid night. I’m thinking about what diseases my ass potentially picked up sitting in the back seat of the squad car too. I’m also convinced that the police were wrong and that there is someone still in the house, masked by an invisible cloak.
Ok, I’m going to try and go back to sleep and post this tomorrow morning. Thanks for listening and if there is a lesson to be learned in this post it’s that Swiffer mops, Ikea knives, and checking Facebook profiles will do nothing to save you during an emergency. Absolutely nothing at all.
Being stuck alone in a house/apartment that you're used to having someone with you there is always unnerving. Whenever my fiance leaves I always triple check the locks on my apartment, I lock my bedroom door when I go to bed, and I leave my bathroom door open to provide easy access to bolt in there for an added layer of locked protection if I need it. My mind always plays tricks on me and I'm always convinced I hear someone trying to break in every time I'm alone overnight.
@brittney- yep! that sounds EXACTLY like me. i've been this way since i was a kid. i'm convinced that i'm about to be murdered just about every evening. any noise means there is a gun-toting lunatic just outside my room. glad to know that i'm not alone.
It think it's from watching way to much Law & Order: SVU… they've got me convinced that someone out there is stalking me and waiting for the perfect chance to get me.
That sucks. Whenever we get a bad thunderstorm and the power goes out I'm convinced that is the night my house will be looted and I will die.
I'd be scared out of my mind too.
i'm glad everything is okay though!
This is hilarious! And very scary too. I've totally been there before- I've even run out of the house screaming in the middle of the night to find, of course, that no one was there. Oh how the mind plays tricks on us.
oh my gosh I don't think I would have been able to get back to sleep after that! I'm like Brittney, I live alone & have to check every closet before I go to bed to make sure no one is hiding with a plan to kill me after I fall sleep. I'm glad it was a false alarm!
Oh no! That sounds horrible.
If only the cops had been hot, the night wouldn't have been such a bust. Damn.
Don't worry you're not going crazy or anything. Your house is probably just haunted.
This kinda reminds me of the time I was woken up in the middle of the night by the horrendously loud and paralyzing sound of my house alarm. I froze in my bed laying there for what seemed like an eternity until the alarm company called. They asked if everything was alright. I replied "I have no idea." They told me the specific room and window where the alarm had been triggered and asked if I wanted them to call the police. And because I'm a badass (an idiot) I told the lady on the phone I would go check to see if everything was okay. Went to the kitchen and got a knife and a flashlight (oh yeah all the lights upstairs were not working at the time and climbing dark stairs with a knife and a flashlight lends itself to all sorts of scary nosferatu shadows being projected on the walls.) The door to the room was closed so I turned the knob, kicked the door open and jumped back with the knife raised ready to stab. In the end there was nothing there but I laid awake for several hours that night with a knife by my bed.
This is scary and funny at the same time. Old houses do weird things, but just in case you might invest in a hammer so you can go Kathy Bates on ghost intruder's ass! My thinking is if you can survive LA ghetto then you have immunity from the Grim Reaper.
It's a sin this wasn't videotaped.
I had a bird in my wall once. Terrible, terrible night. Especially because I thought it was a rat, and I couldn't get the mental picture of a rat scratching inside my wall out of my head.
The insomnia part happens with or without the trapped birds. Glad you had an excuse!
Yikes total scare! I do this all the time (not the calling the cops part, but thinking…no KNOWING, somethign is IN MY HOUSE). I don't think robbers though, i immediately think my house is haunted. This is ridiculous I'm sure, but I blame every little thing on ghosts, as if ghosts really want to waste their time on a girl like me. So you're not alone in these crazy thoughts, or real notions. And I hope I'm laughing with you, not at you, when I tell you the whole boob popping out of pj's shivering like a chihuahua thing made me choke a little bit on my own spit as I inhaled ready to laugh.
Lauren, I'm with Hannah. Too bad we don't have this adventure on tape! Your reporting of it is very visual, however. Love it.