This is one of those awkward stories that makes you wonder about your surroundings, but mainly, well, your neighbors. I remember living with someone years ago, and I had this habit of leaving all the doors in the house open, which pissed off my roommate plenty. He used to always say that the bad neighborhood a ways up would one day steal from the house. I never believed that…because at one time I lived in one of those bad neighborhoods. People from those areasdon’t rob from the rich and sell to the poor. They rob from each other and sell to each other.Usually it’s a crack head or some kind of addict or some young punks with really nothing else todo. All those elements are here in quite the satirical way. I hope you don’t know anybody likethis. If you do, by all means comment on my blog.
The people most likely to rob your house are your neighbors. Not necessarily your immediateneighbors. It might be someone from down the block or across the street. In some cases, it'ssomeone from around the corner.Before I moved to this place six months ago I lived in a small apartment with the rest of my pretty large family. There's my mother and father--still married--and my younger sister and brother. Both of my siblings are ten years younger than I am and fraternal twins. I'm 23 yearsold. It's a two bedroom apartment, so that place is too small. My family is still really close. For instance, they all have a key to my house. It's the least I can do. I could have stayed home andhelped out, or I could have moved out and helped them a lot less. If they have a key it helps myconscience.I remember the first time we got robbed. I was real young, like 10 years old or something likethat. Whoever stole from us took some dumb stuff: cake mix, eggs, my backpack--probably to put the cake mix and eggs in--some milk, is what I remember. They didn't take anything nicelike the television or VCR or money or the radio. The next time we got robbed I was much older.I was fifteen so the twins were about five. I baby-sat a lot. If I wasn't watching them, my mother was. If my mother wasn't with them, my father was watching them. If nobody could watch them,Aunt Sara did. Whoever robbed us had to know when we weren't going to be home for a periodof time. They'd have to know our patterns. All they had to do was pay attention. That's what Iheard my dad saying. My mother was pissed. My dad thought it was bound to happen, sooner or later.When I was eighteen the same thing happened. I even think I know who it was the last time.Whoever it was, they didn't do it themselves; they got other people to do it. How can you proveit, though?