I’m not sure when the first noise woke me up, but I was dragged from a dream and thrust into the dark of my room rather quickly. I’ve been locking Mina in the bathroom because she’s active at night, and also because I don’t want her running around the house until I get the flea situation under control.
She knocks things over sometimes and the noise of it wakes me up. I thought this was another such occasion and I went into the bathroom and hissed “Mina! Stop!” Then I looked around to see what was on the floor. The shampoo was knocked over in the bathtub but nothing else was out of place. I couldn’t quite fit the damage with the noise and my eyes went to the bathroom window. Everything seemed fine there so I gave Mina a suspicious look and then left, leaving the bathroom light on. I went in Tristan’s room and scanned it once my eyes adjusted to the dark, then I went back to bed feeling uneasy.
The whole front came off
A few minutes later I heard noise again, a banging and cracking kind of sound. I jumped up and ran to the bathroom but I didn’t go in. I froze because I realized the noise was coming from the air conditioning unit in Tristan’s window. The big old thing was wiggling and moving and making that damned banging, cracking sound.
About two seconds later I fully understood that someone was outside the window trying to get in. Someone was trying to get into my house, into my sons room. I didn’t decide to yell, it just kind of burst out of me from somewhere deep down, my voice deepening and reverberating through the room. I didn’t get to choose what I said, and an outraged, wall shaking “HEY!” is what came out. My voice sounded so big and ferocious but there I stood, suddenly very aware of how small and pregnant I am.
I ran through the house turning on every light and called 911. It only took the cops a few minutes to get to my house but in the state I was in it seemed like an eternity. I was full of adrenaline, anger, and, though I always hate admitting to it, fear. In fight or flight situations I tend to go with FIGHT, and I hate finding fear in myself.
Of course, with Tristan I feel fear like I’ve never felt before. He didn’t wake up when the air conditioner almost got yanked out of the window (thank god it was good and screwed in) and he didn’t wake up when I let out my bloodcurdling yell and ran around turning on lights. When he heard me talking to the 911 operator he opened his eyes and smiled at me in surprise. Smiled. His big, goofy, innocent smile. That’s when I was really afraid. You’re so much more aware of the evil in the world when you’re trying to protect something so soft and precious.
My sister, Carissa
I think I’m going to get a gun. I’ve always hated guns. Quite passionately, actually. I’ve made jokes about all the gun toting rednecks. Rifle racks and empty beer cans, ha ha.
I think it’s safe to say that this kind of changes things. I thought about getting some kind of protection when I first moved out of my sisters place but I didn’t like the idea of having a gun in the same house with Tristan. Now…? I’ll do whatever I need to do to feel that my son and I are safe. I need to know I’ll be able to protect myself and my children. Precautions will certainly have to be taken. I’ll have to have my sister teach me to shoot. No, I’m not going deer hunting any time soon, but if some motherfucker tries to come through my sons bedroom window he’s going to be one sorry son of a bitch. My wakeful ass will be ready.
My wakeful ass has been running back and forth between my house and the doctors office since 8am. They’ve been drawing my blood every hour since I drank that horrendous sugar drink to check my blood sugar. This bites.
Stuff, things… I’ve got a lot on my mind right now…
