So, I have had the craziest week...
It's Friday, where I live, at least, which means that it has now been a week since I woke up to find a man in bed with me who wasn't my husband, or my friend, or anyone else that I knew. Around three AM last Friday, a man broke into my house and, yeah, climbed into bed with me...
I don't really use this journal for anything but fanfiction but I'm a writer and I write shit down so here it is.
I wake up because I'm too hot, ready to push my husband Sean away, but when I open my eyes I'm looking at Sean on the other side of the bed, my son in between us. I'm still half asleep when I turn around to find out who has their arms around me. I think I might be dreaming.
And the man, slipped in between me and the wall, looks at me and lifts a finger to his lips. "Shhhh."
Hell no, man, you think I might just 'shhhh' and go back to sleep?! My kids are in the fucking room.
So I elbow him hard in the chest and it takes three goes until he gets the fuck off of me and off the bed. I didn't scream. I think I didn't want to wake my kids up but I don't know, I wasn't thinking at the time.
Sean wakes up as the guy stands up at the end of the bed, and it might have been funny if it wasn't so terrifying. Sean's not the toughest-looking man, he's a bit hobbit-ish really, and this guy was much bigger than him, must have been 6ft, stocky, muscly-looking. Sean also sleeps in the buff, and the idea of him leaping out of bed in all his naked glory to chase down a huge intruder is kind of ridiculous but Sean's a Fucking Hero.
So he throws himself out of bed, yelling 'WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!' and whoever Creepy Molester Guy is, he fucking bolts with Sean crashing after him and I'm in the bedroom doorway making these stupid little half-scream, half-sobbing noises.
------------
So one week on, we've moved house (pretty fucking fast. We moved in on Monday) and spent two hours at the police station giving statements, however-the-fuck-long talking to police in our (now old) house, walking photographers and forensic specialists through the place, and generally trying not to break down in a panic when it gets dark. Right now I'm home alone (well, the kids are here, sleeping) and kind of freaking out so all my LJ friends get to hear about my fucked up week, just to give me something to do while I wait for Sean to get back.
Most important thing: We are all safe and unharmed.
A less important thing: Cops took one of my favourite shirts to try to get DNA off it, I guess. I want it back, and isn't that such a stupid thing to be thinking about?
*shrug*
I don't really use this journal for anything but fanfiction but I'm a writer and I write shit down so here it is.
I wake up because I'm too hot, ready to push my husband Sean away, but when I open my eyes I'm looking at Sean on the other side of the bed, my son in between us. I'm still half asleep when I turn around to find out who has their arms around me. I think I might be dreaming.
And the man, slipped in between me and the wall, looks at me and lifts a finger to his lips. "Shhhh."
Hell no, man, you think I might just 'shhhh' and go back to sleep?! My kids are in the fucking room.
So I elbow him hard in the chest and it takes three goes until he gets the fuck off of me and off the bed. I didn't scream. I think I didn't want to wake my kids up but I don't know, I wasn't thinking at the time.
Sean wakes up as the guy stands up at the end of the bed, and it might have been funny if it wasn't so terrifying. Sean's not the toughest-looking man, he's a bit hobbit-ish really, and this guy was much bigger than him, must have been 6ft, stocky, muscly-looking. Sean also sleeps in the buff, and the idea of him leaping out of bed in all his naked glory to chase down a huge intruder is kind of ridiculous but Sean's a Fucking Hero.
So he throws himself out of bed, yelling 'WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!' and whoever Creepy Molester Guy is, he fucking bolts with Sean crashing after him and I'm in the bedroom doorway making these stupid little half-scream, half-sobbing noises.
------------
So one week on, we've moved house (pretty fucking fast. We moved in on Monday) and spent two hours at the police station giving statements, however-the-fuck-long talking to police in our (now old) house, walking photographers and forensic specialists through the place, and generally trying not to break down in a panic when it gets dark. Right now I'm home alone (well, the kids are here, sleeping) and kind of freaking out so all my LJ friends get to hear about my fucked up week, just to give me something to do while I wait for Sean to get back.
Most important thing: We are all safe and unharmed.
A less important thing: Cops took one of my favourite shirts to try to get DNA off it, I guess. I want it back, and isn't that such a stupid thing to be thinking about?
*shrug*