The Night That Blew My Mind

      I was not scared of my own house at night before that horrible incident happened. I wanted to leave Pittsburgh with the best memories in mind, but that became impossible due to what took place. That last Saturday night was the worst night of my life.

At 11:30 on that rueful Saturday night, my family and I were just returning from a birthday party. We were planning to spend the night at a friend’s house, since there was nothing in ours besides a few bags of essentials and valuables. That night was like every other night in Pittsburgh: cold and partly cloudy with a sliver of moonlight, and the occasional whisper of the chilly night air. Dad went ahead to unlock the front door while my brother and I bantered with each other. That fun only lasted a few seconds before my dad whispered the dreadful words, “The door is locked from the inside. Someone has broken in.”

             My mind raced as fast as a cheetah, demanding some sense of the situation before it went completely numb. My hands shook, and my heart beat faster than a drum. We all stood there in shock until my dad snapped out of the trance and called 911. Feelings of despair and fear raced through me, especially fear. The phrase, “Are we going to be okay?” kept playing over and over in my mind as it reeled back to that innocent morning.

            I clearly remember the movers coming to load our packed boxes onto the truck, so they could transport them to our new house in Charlotte, North Carolina. My mom and dad had kept our passports, legal documents, and valuables along with clothes and some essentials, so we could bring them with us. We were going to a party later that day to celebrate a birthday and say our goodbyes to some of our friends. We were completely unaware of the fact that a drug addict, who would do anything for money, was on the loose; furthermore, we had complete trust in the location of our house, so we had left all of our belongings in it.

            The police still had not come, but some of our friends were there; as soon as they had heard about what had happened, they spent no time getting to our house. I was thankful that they had come to be with us in the time of need. Their faces were dark clouds and their condolences a silent night. My dad was still shaking with fear of what we would find inside the house. Our friends’ kindness was not enough to calm him or me. I could not stop the storm of tears quietly approaching.

            The blue and red lights finally showed their faces. The police officer brought out his gun, broke the door open, and went inside. We waited in silence as the officer inspected the house to make sure no one was still inside. I felt as if silence had taken rule over everyone; it was so quiet that I thought that even my heartbeat could be heard by everyone present. When the officer finally came back from the house with a relaxed expression on his face, we were all very relieved.

            Later on my family and I found out that my mom’s gold bangles and all the money from my purse was missing. My dad was still relieved though because at least the thief had not taken any of our passports or legal documents. We slept at a friend’s house that night and sorrowfully said goodbye to them the next morning. The flight safely brought us to Charlotte, North Carolina and although we had all been paranoid, we were still safe.

            My last weekend in Pittsburgh was truly a rueful day. My family and I could have easily avoided this situation and the paranoia following it, but we were too careless. This teaches me that sometimes being too careful and feeling safe is much better than being careless and feeling despair.