I Have a Ghost

Have you ever walked into an empty house and felt like you are being watched? Have you ever sensed that someone was standing next to you when you are in an empty room. How about when your things going missing when you know that you left them in a certain spot?

OH! You have? I guess that it seems like at least once in our short lives we experience the extra terrestrial.

Well lately I have become to feel like I have a ghost in my house. Not the haunting, evil, going to murder you in your sleep kind but more of the kind of ghost that seems to just simply exists. I guess it doesn't have any vendetta against my family because no one is dead.

Let me give you some of the evidence that has led me to believe that a ghost has taken up residence inside of my house.

Evidence #1
 It all started at the beginning of school. Every day my little sisters alarm would go off at 12:30 p.m.
That's not weird. You may think and I agree its not very weird.
Whats weird is that  it would randomly not beep at 12:30 and instead it would start around 12:04. I would have to go into the basement all by my self and turn it off. Opening the door to her dark room actually terrified me.

Evidence #2
My little sister used to come into my room in the morning, when we went to the same school, and we would do our hair and make up together. Since we don't go to school together any more and I now sleep in, she has no reason to be in my room and when she was done with school I was usually at work. Well the body length mirror that she and I used to spend our time in front of gets really dusty, and I'm to lazy to dust it off all the time. One day when I woke up I saw what looked like fingers dragged down through the dust of just a tiny part of my mirror. I totally understand if you are skeptical about this because it honestly could have easily been some one in my family. I don't even have full faith that it is the ghost. I just don't know who did it.

Evidence #3
Usually when I go to school I close my door. Its an old habit from when I had my dog Rex who would jump on the bed and rip the mattress. Well it was about two weeks ago that this incident happened. I was ready to go to school and I left my room, closing the door behind me. I went up stairs and said goodbye to my mom. She works from home often and happened to be home today. My other two sisters were gone, one being at work and the other at school. Well, I left and went to class like normal, after class I came home and grabbed my lunch. When I had  put together what ever I was going to be eating I brought my food into my moms office and sat on the couch so we could talk.
Into our conversation she stopped and said something weird.
"Guess what." She said.
I replied, asking "what?".
She then explained rather nonchalantly how when I was at school she heard my bedroom door open and then close.
I freaked and was like "It was the ghost! Ewwww it was in my room!"
She laughed it off and so did I knowing she didn't believe in it.
But I believe that the ghost did it.

Evidence#4
The other day I was getting ready for work, putting my make up on in front of the mirror in my room. Well the house phone started to ring. I happen to have one of the multiple house phones in my room and when I looked at the phone i freaked! It was the house phone calling the house phone!
Of course I didn't answer it! I was way too freaked to have a conversation with a ghost.
Now my little sister was home at the time so I naturally ran to her and tried to confront her about what I thought was her playing a prank. Well she had been playing a game on the Xbox and denied it, then she accused me of messing around. So I grabbed the phone from my room and scrolled to the caller ID and showed her that the house called us. After I went to work and told my coworkers I found out that it is actually impossible to call your phone from your phone. Naturally I went home and tried. All it does is give you a busy signal , with out the call going through. Obviously it was the ghost.

Evidence#5
This is the scariest story that I have.
So I was home alone sitting in my bedroom on my bed. The door was open and my dog sat on my lap sleeping. Well from the hallway came the sound of someone moving. It was quiet, and really only sounded like the whispering noise that clothes make when you move, mainly pants rubbing against each other when you walk. I am in the basement and the stairs leading up are next to my room.
So I hear the rustle of clothes and then it sounded like someone almost put their full weight on the bottom step of the stair. Well I could have just been imagined it but I didn't. My little dog had woken up and was staring at my wall. On the opposite side of the wall was the stairs where we heard the noise.
Suddenly I had a really sickening feeling that someone was looking in my room from the hall way. I was too scared to move for a minute, till finally I got the courage to jump off of my bed and close my door.
I know that all houses creak and make weird noises, but mine doesn't make sounds like some one is walking in my basement!

Evidence#6
Just last night my little sister and I were painting a book shelf. Well at four o'clock this morning everyone was woken by a huge bang. The bookshelf had fallen over. What I don't understand is why would it fall over at four in the morning? So my theory is that the ghost pushed it!


This is my evidence for the ghost living in my house. Believe it or not, because I don't care what you think about this! I know there is a ghost! He may not be evil or out to get us ghost but he is real.

Oh! I forgot to mention that in the place that I live in now, once had a suicide in it... Are you convinced?

The Hand

This story begins on a rainy evening as my little sister and I sat on the couch and watched the anime version of Romeo and Juliet. My older sister had come home and was sitting in our living room because our neighbor (who is also a mechanic) was working on her car. She had taken my car to work for the day I had been left home to while away in my boredom.

 On these particular days when I am bored, for the life of me I never seem to do anything productive; including making my own meals. So for dinner I had a glass of milk and an amazing sugar cookie. We had kept the window open so that the heavy rain could add its alluring sound to our movie. Well during our movie my oldest sister kept opening up the door to ask us a question or retrieve an object from the room, when she left she always left the door open!

You're probably thinking "Well would it really matter if the door was left open?" Well for one I live in a duplex, meaning that my house is split down the middle with a wall and other people live on the opposite side of that wall. So we try to be courteous and attempt to keep all movies, music, and singing from reaching the intensity of bothering my sweet neighbors. So naturally the TV was not turned up to loud. Again you probably think "Okay, but why can't she leave the door open?" Well my second reason is that outside of the room that we were currently residing in is our SWAMP COOLER. For those of you who don't know, swamp coolers are LOUD! Also because they really don't work all that well they never stop! It's a constant phshshshshshsh grrrrraaaaa pspspsspps. All. Day. Long. 

So now begins the truly terrifying story of what happened to me on a gloomy and rainy Monday night. My eldest sister opened the door again and asked us where the torch is. While I took a huge bite of my cookie my little sis told her that it was in our mothers’ room. Well again she turned away and DIDN”T CLOSE THE DOOR! At the exact same time my little sis and I yelled “DUUUUDE!!” This is the moment that it all happened. A big black hand reached into the room and closed the door. We both screamed that weird scream that you do when you have food in your mouth and you try not to have it all spill out onto your lap! Being that my house hold is made up of four white girls we are not accustomed to having random strangers in our house so when the hand that we both expected to be our sisters turned out to be a stranger, we freaked out. Well at the last moment before the door closed I saw his face. It was Jordan, my neighbor and best friend who lives across the street. His dad is the one who was fixing my older sisters car so it was natural for Jordan to be helping out, and he had come inside to ask for our flashlight.

We were so embarrassed when we finally finished screaming. When we finally came out of the room Jordan was talking to my sister and I was red in the face from trying to keep back my awkward laughter.

Well I’m and awkward person and I know it and at times like those I really show it.

My forced education is now complete...

The one spectacular moment that high school students have years to look forward to is graduation day. Well as the day drew near I realized that I didn’t want to graduate. Every one kept asking me if I was so excited and glad that it was finally all over with.  People who I don’t really know thought that they could now ask me my plans for the future and expect me to tell them everything.

When the morning came for my graduation I felt bored and really didn’t want to take the time to walk down the carpet and then listen to all the speakers. When the time came for me to put on my cap and gown everyone expected me to be so excited and nervous.   I still didn’t care…            I drove with my family to the building where my final moments of being a high school senior would be spent. When we got there we had to stand in line for about a half an hour and unfortunately all the girls were forced to where the white traditional gown instead of the green that the boys were so privileged to wear (I was envious of the boys robes).  Because the women had the white gowns we weren’t able to really sit on the floor and wait for our assembly line to move for fear of getting our gowns dirty.  Well when we began to gradually move I finally felt something. I had sick butterflies in my stomach; I guess I cared after all. Walking down the aisle was actually kind of fun, people were cheering and I had a cute boy walking by my side that I sort of knew.  Then we sat down and the speakers began their very annoying and boring talks. I kind of wish we could have just watched a slide show and been done with it. The chair was killing me and I was getting a head ache, come to find out my bra straps were too tight and I think they were restricting my circulation. Eventually we got to stand and receive  our diplomas then we were blessed enough to be able to shake our principles and the mayor’s hand.    I know lucky me...                                                                 

 Well finally it was over with and we the student body walked out, no longer students. As I saunterd out of the building I finally felt some relief that I was finally finished. As much as I hated the whole ceremony it really helped me to feel like my ties were cut with high school and that I was free to do whatever I liked. Plus afterwards I was able to receive gifts from my family… Heheh I really love presents!

I think if I could say one thing to the world I would request that they stop asking me what my plans are. Because I really just don’t know! Also its none of their damn business! One day I will figure out what I plan on doing, but till then I refuse pretend that I am something that I am not.

So there it is. I’m graduated. I’m clueless. I’m going to figure it out eventually.

The Cat Moving In

So I have a slight problem. There is this cat in my neighborhood and he keeps trying to get into my home. Because my dog is dead my little sister has been trying to bring in any animal that she can. Well a while back she brought this cat into my house, not very far, but still it came inside. While I thought that it was hilarious and so did my little sis. My mother on the other hand did not. She smiled for a little and reminded us that my older sister is allergic to cats, so sadly we gave up our giggle fits and helped put the cat out side. Often when I am getting out of my car and walking to my house the cat will come running up to me asking for a scratch behind the ears. He is super sweet and loves my family. But the sad truth is that he already has a family. In fact his family lives across the street and their son is one of my best friends. The cat really just wanders around the neighborhood, instead of staying at home, doing what ever a cat does.

This is where the story gets funny. Well Wednesday morning I was drove back from my Grandparents with my little sister. When we got home we ran inside and said hello to my family. Later I told my sis that we had to go and take our luggage out of the car. When she opened the door she screamed and jumped back. Of course I screamed because who doesn't when someone else does! Well as she jumped back, in came the cat acting as if he was a full fledged part of the family. We were both laughing hysterically and giving the kitty love because he was so adorable. Then of course my mom came and made us take him out. Well when we pushed him onto the doorstep he turned right around and bounded back in. Again we were dying of laughter. To someone else it probably wasn't even that funny, but I feel like I'm a person who is naturally inclined to laugh at stupid things. This happened a few times, we would push the cat out side and he would attempt to push his way back in. Eventually we were all out side and had managed to get the door shut. When we walked over to the car the cat followed at our heels meowing. When we were standing still he would purr and rub against our legs. This was seriously the best thing to happen to me because I felt along the lines of a Disney princess, because here was this cat following me around like I was the sunshine in its life. Okay that sounds really dramatic, but I was having a really good time with this adoring cat. It took my sister and I a little while to get our stuff out of the car because we hate to make more than one trip back out to get more stuff. So our arms were full of bags, blankets, and any other crap you would find in a car after a road trip. My mom had grabbed two suit cases and ran into the house to put them in the basement, where our rooms are. She doesn't have any problem with making more than one trip to get luggage. The cat by this time was walking along the side walk, just sorta chilling in my yard. Because my mom had her hands full she had left the front door open. I looked at the cat who was staring intently at my house. He looked at my little sister and I and then bounded up my front steps and into the house. I was literally tearing up I was laughing so hard. He was so adamant that he was going to be inside my house. My arms were full so my sister and I carefully walked back to the house, stopping often to that we could bend down and pick up something that had fallen. When we got to the front door I could see how far the cat had gotten. He looked so at home, he had almost made it all the way to my mothers office, which is quite a distance from the door, before she came back up stairs and took him out side. It was just the funniest thing that I had ever seen from a cat. He was so determined to come into my house and become friends with my family that I can't help but love him. I WANT HIM TO BE MINE!! I think I deserve him! He has obviously chosen the family that he wants to live with. So who am I to deny this cat his happiness?  I have also posted a pic of the lil kitty!

My Horror Story

So this is a story that I wrote for a Valentines Horror story contest. The winner was supposed to be published in the school paper but the February paper hasn't come out. Maybe it did and I just wasn't aware of it. Well I probably didn't win so I wanted others to be able to read it. For a short story it is kinda long, so if you can't deal with the awesomeness then get off my blog. Enjoy!

Stalker

By Courtney

            The alarm clock beeped from the night stand. I opened my eyes and sat up. Turning I squinted at the clock, it read Friday February 14th 5:30 a.m. I felt a pit in my stomach; Valentine’s Day. I shuddered; only awful memories ever came with Valentine’s Day. Throwing my feet over the edge of the bed I stood up and shuffled towards the bathroom. I turned on the shower and waited a moment before stepping in and letting the hot water wash over me. "This year will be fine." I breathed. "I will be fine."
Every year on Valentine’s Day my past came back to taunt me. I had relocated, changed my name, and I stay off of any social media website that someone could search my alias and address.

"My life is good now, I am safe." I whispered to myself. "Jen, no one is going to harm you."

My horror story begins three years ago during my freshman year of college. I was fully focused on my studies and I was trying to achieve my dream of becoming a professional dancer. I had friends and a steady boyfriend, but I also had one other thing: a stalker. Near the end of my first semester it began. Hand written notes would be left on my door step, under my door, and in my mailbox. Inside the notes were declarations of undying love and devotion. Saying things like "I will never give up until you are mine". Alongside these notes came flowers. I confronted my roommate, friends, and boyfriend about them, but they all testified that they weren't the ones leaving them. Soon I began finding notes inside my house on my night stand and there would be rose petals spread across on my bed. Terrified I called the police and notified them about what was happening. They would respond and tried to calm me down, but I could tell that they thought it was just a joke. Finally they told me that they would begin patrolling the neighborhood, I was relieved when I saw their car drive slowly through my street. Not long after the police began to patrol, the notes stopped and Christmas break came and all the students went home. I had unwisely decided not to tell my family about the notes, fully knowing that they would over-react. That year I brought my boyfriend home with me to meet my parents. For the first time in a while I could truly breathe. But all too soon Christmas break ended and we all returned and began school once more. There were no notes in front of my door or in my house. The police still patrolled the area; though not as often, and I felt some security. But after a while the notes began to appear in other places like; inside the girl’s locker room, within my text books, and on my car. But now the notes came alongside with pictures of me. My boyfriend began spending his nights asleep on the couch in my apartment. My roommate didn't mind; I know she also had become freaked out by my invisible stalker.  One night I laid out blankets for my boyfriend as he walked around the apartment and locked all the doors and windows. My roommate was taking a shower so I had a moment alone with him. He held me close and reassured me that I was safe and that no one was going to come into the apartment. He told me that in the morning he was going to make a grand Valentine’s Day breakfast. I looked into his blue eyes and knew that he was going to do all that he could to keep me safe. Reassured, I kissed him good night and went to my room. I fell asleep quickly, calmed by the thought that he was going to keep me safe.

Late into the night my door slowly opened and the light from the hallway fell on my face. I could hear my boyfriend quietly walk into the room. I kept my eyes closed; comforted that he was coming to check up on me. He sat on the edge of my bed and I could feel his fingers graze my cheek as he gently swept the hair off of my face. Then he leaned over and kissed my temple. I continued letting him think that I was asleep; he knew that I hadn't been sleeping well and had been worried about me. He played with a piece of my hair for a moment, then he stood up, quietly left the room, and I drifted back to sleep.

The next morning when I woke up I glanced at the clock. It read 8:30 a.m. It was Valentine’s Day. I sat up and stretched, my eyes were still blurry with sleep. Getting out of bed I tried to pull back my wild hair. I could smell bacon cooking, inhaling deeply I walked out of my room and towards the kitchen. As I walked down the hallway I felt a cold breeze come from under the door of my roommates bath room she must have cracked the window this morning before she left. The blinds were still shut and the lights were off, leaving the apartment in semi-darkness. I could see the faint flicker of candlelight coming from the kitchen. Continuing past my roommate’s bathroom I stepped in a small puddle. I groaned, my roommate always tracked water around after she took a shower. Without looking I wiped my foot on my other pant leg so that I could get the water off. Then I continued towards the kitchen. My stomach growled when I turned into the kitchen and saw a plate of pancakes and bacon sitting on the table. I sat down and began to eat. My boyfriend walked in from the other room, I didn't even look at him I was so entranced by the food. He began to massage my shoulders from behind.

"Mmm. Thanks." I said.

He leaned forward and kissed my temple.

"You're welcome." He replied.

But it wasn't my boyfriend’s voice. I stiffened as I felt a prick in my side; a knife was being held close to me. An arm slid around my neck while the other hand held the knife to me.

"Time to go." The deep and raspy voice said. I didn't move.

"UP!" He barked.

I slowly stood, shaking from head to toe. He pressed himself into my back so we were standing close together. Then he began moving towards the door and I had no choice but to follow him. When we reached the front door he made me unlock the bolt and open it, then we started down the front steps of my apartment. I scanned the area with my eyes, looking for anyone to come and help me. I spotted a green car with a door ajar that he began veer me towards. My eyes were streaming. All I could think was "Don't get into that car. Don't get into that car. If you get in you won't come back." I took a deep breath and made a decision, no matter the cost, there was no way in hell I would willingly climb into that vehicle. As we reached the middle part of the stairs I turned and jammed my elbow into his jaw. Then with a scream, I jammed my elbow into his gut. He doubled over, loosening his grip and I took the moment to twist out of his grasp, as I twisted I pushed him as hard as I could, trying to put some distance between us. He tumbled down the stairs as I bolted up and back to my apartment.

My eyes and nose were streaming as I ran into my apartment and bolted the door. A thought came to me, and I rushed to the bathroom. Throwing open the door I saw that the window was wide open. I rushed over and slammed it closed and locked it. I felt like I was choking on the very air that I needed to breathe as I ran to my bed room and grabbed my cell phone off my night stand. I flipped it open and punched in the numbers 9-1-1 as fast as my fingers would go. I was crying when they answered asking me what my emergency was. Sobbing into the mic I tried to tell them what had happened. The lady on the other end told me to stay calm and gave me a few other directions about what I needed to do. I heard a tap come from my window, then the deep raspy voice came to me saying.

"I will never give up on you."

The phone fell from my hands and hit the floor. I began to panic. I stood up in my state of fear ran into the living room to see where my boyfriend was. My nose and eyes were streaming as I reached the couch. Somehow he was still asleep. Reaching forward I pulled off the blanket and let out a scream. His dead blue eyes stared at the ceiling, his face frozen in fear. On his chest was the result of multiple stab wounds. I dropped the blanket and backed away. My mind turned to my roommate. If that window was open then there could be the chance that she never left this morning. I flew down the hallway, and slipped, landing with a thud. I could now see that the puddle I had stepped in was blood, my hands and knees were covered in it. There was more blood smeared on the walls, placed like paint to decorate the outer edge of any picture with me in it. In the dim light, my blurry eyes hadn’t been able to see the mess. My hands were sticky as I got up and rushed even faster to my roommates' room. My hand slipped once on the door knob. When I finally had a grip I threw open her door, only to behold the gruesome mess. She was dead. There was no doubt about it. My body froze and my mind went numb. I didn't know what to do. I could hear more tapping coming from the other window as the man who had done all of this inspired more fear in my heart. I knew that in a moment he was going to break in here and kill me. My knees gave out and I hit the floor without even trying to catch myself. My face became covered in the blood that had pooled on the carpet. I could see a trickle of red coming out of my side, I must have been stabbed as I tried to escape and now I had begun to go into shock. Now I simply lay there, not able to move as I watched my blood trickle out of my side and mix on the carpet with that of my roommates.

I don't remember much of what happened next, I faintly recall hearing a siren and the front door being kicked in. I remember seeing the shoes of multiple people come into the room. I stared at the walls when I was picked up like a doll and carried from the house. I remember seeing my dead boyfriend still on the couch his blue eyes still holding his last sight before he was murdered, then I blacked out. When I woke up next I was laying on a gurney being prepared to be taken to the hospital. An officer was trying to speak to me. I could see his lips moving but I couldn't hear any of the words he was saying, and then I blacked out again. When I woke up in the hospital later I was told that I had been stabbed and had lost a lot of blood. They told me that my roommate and boyfriend were dead. They then began asking me to identify who had attacked me, but I could not recall a single detail about him other than his voice. It also meant that they had not caught the murderer. This is where my horror story ends.
Soon after my wound was healed and I was let out of the hospital; I went underground. I was given a new chance at life. I left the terrified girl named Jen behind, and though it had taken a long time I had done my best to put my past behind me. My new name was Ann and I had moved across the country to start my life over. I didn't want to live as Jen the girl who got her friends murdered or the girl that feared she was still being hunted.
                                 

Turning off the hot water I stepped out of the shower and got dressed. I pulled back my hair into a bun and got ready to go to work. I taught dance to young children at a studio one block away from my house. I sat on the edge of my bed and put on my shoes. Then I grabbed my dance bag and house keys and went out the door, locking it behind me. The sun was starting to peak over the horizon; as I walked its rays stretched to melt the frost off the ground. When I reached the studio I unlocked the door and flipped on the lights. I methodically worked on opening up the building, and then I lost my thoughts in teaching for the rest of the day. It wasn't till I looked out the window and realized that it was already dark that I felt a pang of fear in my chest. As the last class finished up I spoke to the other instructors. The instructors and I usually waited together till all of the children had been picked up by their parents. But tonight I designated myself to stay behind and wait for the few remaining students to be picked up. They thanked me and went on their way, excited to spend the evening with their loved ones. When the last student left I turned off the lights and locked the studio door. I felt exhausted as I started to walk home. My hair had begun to fall out of its bun, and to no avail I tried pushing it out of my face. Adjusting my bag on my shoulder I looked forward and froze. Someone was standing just beyond the nearest street light. Nervously I squinted trying to make out who it was. He stepped into the light so I could see his face. It was my boyfriend. He had his hands in his pockets and a grin on his face.

"Ann!" He called. "Happy Valentine’s Day!"

I smiled and walked towards him. He had come into my life about four months after I had changed my identity. He never pushed to hear about my past and I had decided to never tell him my tragic story, so naturally he didn’t know my real name. During the long time that I had been with him, he had become my steadfast rock. He had dark brown eyes that I felt safe in and a mischievous grin. Often I would call him up in the middle of the night, frightened with a memory of my past and he would be there in an instant, ready to comfort me. I walked up to him, wrapped my arms around him and gave him a kiss. Then we turned and began walking towards my house. It was late and the darkness was only interrupted by the occasional street light and distant star. He slung his arm around my shoulder holding me tight. Leaning his head in, he gave a quick kiss to my temple.

"Jen, do you remember something that I told you a while ago."
"What?" I said.
"I will never give up on you."

 His voice had become deep and raspy. My heart stopped as I made the realization and looked up into the dark eyes of my stalker.

Post #1

Hmmm... This being my first post I want it to be good. The only problem is that I do not know what to post about. Wait! I have an idea. I will tell the very embarrassing story of my stolen car. So it begins..

Unfortunately this story doesn't start with a happy and creative one liner. It all began the morning after my dog died. I know, not happy. Well the morning after we had to put my dog down I had decided that I was not going to school. My little sister had some sort of project that was critical for her to turn in, so being the good big sister that I am, I decided that I would wake up, take her to school then go home and right back to bed. Well she came into my room and told me that she need to go in five minutes, so groggily I rolled out of bed, put on my shoes, and pulled back my tangled hair. I grabbed a big sweater because I didn't want to have to take the trouble to look nice and then I grabbed my keys and wallet from the night stand. By then my little sister was fully ready to go so I made my way up the stairs and to the front door. I unlocked it and being the gentlewoman that I am held open the door so that my sister could go out first. She stepped out onto the porch step as I made to close the door. "Uh? Courtney?" She said. "Where is your car?" I turned around and sure enough the spot that I parked was empty. My mother makes me park on the road because she values the beautiful image of her house; like any good real estate woman would. So all that was left was the oil spots where my car had taken a leak on the road and gutter. I was so tiered and dazed that all I could do was stand there and look around the street for my car. Like some how it would just have turned on and moved its self down the street. Keep in mind that my neighborhood can be pretty sketchy at times. I turned my head slightly and called. "MOM. I think that someone stole my car." Ya I really thought that maybe someone had stolen it. Well after the hustle of getting my older sister to take my younger sister to school I realized that I had left my wallet in the console of my car. Something that I never do. Great I thought. Now I needed to get a new library card! And they got my $10 dollar Barnes and Nobel card! Okay those were not my first thoughts but that really did bother me. Well My mom gave me the number to the area police and had me make the report. She told me it would be a good experience. I grudgingly thought that I didn't deserve to have to have this particular experience.  Well I made the call and had to talk to one mean cop telling me that I had the wrong area and then I was given the number to a different station. The next cop was nice and helped me when I said that the car was stolen. I don't fully remember the conversation but I knew that someone was going to come and talk to me some more. After I got off the phone and told my mom that the police officer said that they were going to have someone else talk to me. She told me to go and look presentable in case they decided to make a house call. I gave her a shocked look. I did NOT want to get out of my pajamas, or to deal with the large amount of tangles in my hair. But I did what I was told and got ready for the day. Then I waited around for a police officer to come knocking at my door. Soon the phone rang and I ran for it in case it was for me. It was and this time a police officer asked me a series of questions. When I gave my license plate number to him he repeated it back but he used words like Delta and Echo. Then trying to be awesome I repeated it back to him with his choice of fancy words. I'm such a dork! I gave him any information that I could about my car to help the police identify it. He told me that he would get back to me if they had any information, he gave me a case number and that was it. I hung up and felt a little disappointed that I didn't get to talk to the police man in person. Being the dork that I am I would have loved to talk to an officer when I wasn't the one in trouble. Yes I have been pulled over a couple of times. But back to the story.. This all happened on a Wednesday morning and it wasn't till around noon that I had all of the police business finished. As a side note let me tell you something about this story that bothers me. I have some neighbors that are up and out at all hours of the day, so naturally my mother and I walked over to ask if they had seen or heard anything. They hadn't, which I don't blame them because I sleep like the dead. Well we were talking to one of them and they told me that they thought that it was my neighbor across the street and that they were trouble makers who were up to no good. Well the people who live across the street are a African American man, his wife who is part Hawaiian and part Caucasian, their two sons who are African/Caucasian/and Hawaiian. Their youngest son is one of my best friends and yes he always looks like trouble and his friends are even sketchier, but I have never met nicer people. So when everyone jumped to the assumption that it was my best friends dad that had taken the car I was angry. How dare they! What they didn't know because they are not neighborly people is that my friends dad had the radio stolen out of his car. So he also was a victim! Racist brats! More than one person had that theory and pretty soon I began to tune them out. The next day I had to be dropped off at school and then walk to work. When I arrived at work I had to get a new hat for my uniform because my old one had been laying on the back seat of my stolen car. It was funny when I had to tell one employee about my missing vehicle, because soon the news was pulsing about my work and every one made jokes about me and my car; which I learned is one of the easiest cars to break into. You don't understand how many times I have been told how easy my car is to steal. People really think that they have to let me know that they know everything just because they are older than I am. Well I made it through that shift and was exhausted as I walked home. It wasn't till Saturday when I had given up and gone to get a new library card that I got the phone call. Well I didn't get the phone call, my little sister did. It was my mom and she had gotten a hold of me through my little sisters phone because the vibrate had broken on mine and out of respect for people visiting the library I had turned off the sound. Well when I was handed the phone I ran out of the building; out of respect for the patrons. When I was outside my mom told me that she had found my car. It was in a church parking lot near my house, she also told me that everything was in it. I freaked out and probably scared everyone trying to enter the library. My mother told me that the police thought that I had left the car at the church and got drunk or did something else illegal and ended up getting a ride home with someone, then reported the car stolen so I wouldn't get into trouble. My mother assured the police that I was not that type of girl and that she trusted me and I assured my mom that a scheme like that requires more effort than it is worth. Now this is where the part about my recently passed dog comes in. His name was Rex and he was a real member and guardian of my family. Well he had been in our family for a long time. He was pretty old and had grown sick, and not the kind of sick that a quick trip to the vet could fix. We also didn't have the resources to get him the help that he needed and deserved. So for as long as he could be a happy dog, we let him do so. When the pain and sickness deprived him of his life and we knew that he was close to the end, we scheduled an appointment for Tuesday at 5:30 at the Animal Clinic and took him in. I elected to stay behind because I didn't want to watch the life fade from my beloved friend. My two sisters and mother must be stronger than I am because they went with to give him comfort as he passed. When my family came home we were all in tears and my younger sister and I decided that we didn't want to be at home so we went to the youth activity being held at my church. It felt good to have a distraction for a while, but the whole night I felt like I was in a daze.
The next morning when I woke up my car was gone. Within 24 hours I had lost my friend and my car. My life sucked, but when my mom found it at the church I felt a little bit better. Then she told me about the police saying that they think that I had done some thing wrong and gotten a ride home. The gotten a ride home part is what stuck in my head. A little memory came to the surface of my mind. I remembered being in someones car Tuesdays night. Then I put the pieces together. I hadn't driven home because I had only driven to the church and our group all got into one car and went to the bowling ally. Then when we separated they had just dropped me off at my own house. I still can't see the image really clearly but I know it is true. Now you are probably wondering why my little sister didn't remember why we had gone home in a different car, because I have the clearest memory of getting out of my car. An image that my brain had produced because I had done it all so many times that my brain naturally thought that had happened. Well my little sister remembered that we had been driven home by a leader that night, but only after I asked her about it. I believe that because we had been so clouded with grief that we both just shut down when we had gotten into the carpool car. Super weird. Ya...... So my car was not stolen, it was simply forgotten. IT WILL NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN! So the story is that I am a sad idiot who actually couldn't remember correctly what she had done with her car, my brain really did invent the image of me getting out of my car, but not of me driving it because that never happened. Oh and in case anyone thinks I was drugged. I was not! I did not have any food or water at the activity. Well..... there is the story, take it or leave it. I hope you got a laugh out of my misery...