There is this thing on Ravelry, that people say, ‘Not my blog’. It’s supposed to keep humans from turning a perfectly nice post into some long involved personal rant that others have to wade through. Sort of a tl: dr kind of thing.
However, this is my blog and Imma gonna tl: dr until the cows come home today. The picture above is my yard on Sunday night. About 20 minutes after going to bed there were some **very** loud bangs. Those bangs were a man being murdered in the kitchen of a little rancher duplex across the street in what they are saying was a ‘targeted’ shooting. With a shotgun.
Another gun was apparently also used and those bullets punched through the wall into the other side of the house and nearly killed some very innocent bystanders. It was about 9:40 on a Sunday night. When I heard the noises I ran out onto my front stoop to find out what was going on. And I saw the people who did this thing. I saw them ‘fleeing’ the scene of the crime, not to be too ridiculously trite. Hell, I was about to yell at them, ‘What the hell are you up to!?!?!?, as I am known to do when I see people doing bad things near my home. These were people who had just killed someone. Luckily, for once, I kept my mouth shut.
Then later that night, I got to spend some quality time giving my witness statement of what I’d seen. Then I got to thinking, what if they saw me seeing them? Shit. Am I safe? Do I need to be worried? Targeted, right? Did they get the guy they were targeting or were they at the wrong house and will now try again?
Now, here’s the deal. I’ve always laughed a bit when people made jokes and said bad things about my city. This is where I live. Where I’ve almost always lived. Go ahead, make jokes. We can take it. We’re not *that* bad. Crime happens everywhere, nothing special about us. But now. Things feel very different.
This is my city. This is my street. I’ve lived in this house for almost 16 years. This street was the first place I thought of when my husband and I decided to buy a house. It’s home. You know?
But now, it feels bigger and scarier and not like my home and my neighbourhood. And I’m scared. And I can’t sleep. Crazy jumpy. Every tiny noise sets me off and I’m prowling around the house peeping out the windows in the dark of the night. What the hell? This is not who I am and I am so angry that someone else has scared me into feeling like this person. Who is this nervous Nelly and how do I get rid of her?
Okay, end completely self centred rant. Hey, I’m alive, right? And now, if I can figure out how, I’m going to close the comments on this post. ‘Cause this post was all about me talking. Not about us talking. Thanks for listening to my rant. I really appreciate it. :)
