Do you ever get the feeling that you've misplaced something? The dread you feel when you believe it might have been stolen. The rage building inside when you know it should be there, for you haven't touched it and distinctly remember placing it there? I know that feeling all too well. And it's that feeling that was almost the death of me.
Tonight was the night I'd finally had off work before having to return early in the morning for another long back breaking day. I figured I might as well celebrate the night off by cooking some of my favorite foods, macaroni and cheese. It felt like it'd been years since I had it last, and I was really craving something cheesy.
The noodles had finished cooking and I went to stir in the cheese. I was looking for my long wooden spoon I normally stir with. I tried the top drawer, which it where I normally put it. It wasn't there. I tried the drawer below it. Nothing. The next drawer? Nada. Where did it go? I knew it had to be in one of those drawers, I remember putting it in the top on when I did dishes the other day. I shrugged it off and grabbed the biggest spoon I could find and finished cooking my food.
The next day I returned home after a long day at work. I was beyond exhausted. I had to go in far earlier than I was scheduled, so I was running an eight hour shift going on three hours of sleep. I was ready to crash on the couch and not wake again for another month.
I got out of my car and made my way to the front door, keys in hand. I went to unlock the door, but before I stuck the keys in the hole, I twisted the handle on accident and the door opened. I my heart nearly stopped. Why was the door unlocked? I know for sure I locked it before I left. Hadn't I? I know I'd practically gotten up and left right after the call asking to come in early. But still, I would've locked the door.
I continued my way inside and felt my blood run cold as I saw around the corner that my bedroom light was on. That was something I knew almost for certain I'd turned off. I immediately grabbed my phone and dialed for the police.
"I'm sorry ma'am," the officer started, the thick mustache below his nose wriggling like a hairy caterpillar as he spoke, "There doesn't appear to be any signs of forced entry. Did you notice if anything was missing?"
I shook my head. I felt like he was talking to me like I was crazy. I know someone had been here. As I was waiting for them to arrive earlier, I swore it felt like something was missing. It had to have been something small, for it didn't notice it was gone right away.
After the officers left, I was all alone, standing in the middle of my living room with my thoughts being my only companion.
Someone had broken in, I just know it. Something just felt very off about this whole thing. This was the first time in nearly two years of living on my own that my door wasn't locked when I came home. The doors weren't that hard to open. Cheap wood and even cheaper locks were the only things keeping anyone in these apartments safe.
When I returned home the next day, I was relieved to find that my door was locked, just the way I'd left it. I unlocked it and was greeted with my dark apartment. I felt at peace when I saw there wasn't a light on in the distance. I was glad tonight was a normal night with nothing to give me unpleasant thoughts.
I flicked on my kitchen lights and sat my purse on the counter. Beside my... wooden spoon?
I picked up the spoon and examined it. This was the same spoon I couldn't find the other day. There's no way I would've left it on the counter for days. I couldn't have.
Just then I heard the front door behind me slam shut. I gasped and turned around quickly to see a dark shadow outside my front door window. They slowly waved to me before disappearing into the night.
Tonight was the night I'd finally had off work before having to return early in the morning for another long back breaking day. I figured I might as well celebrate the night off by cooking some of my favorite foods, macaroni and cheese. It felt like it'd been years since I had it last, and I was really craving something cheesy.
The noodles had finished cooking and I went to stir in the cheese. I was looking for my long wooden spoon I normally stir with. I tried the top drawer, which it where I normally put it. It wasn't there. I tried the drawer below it. Nothing. The next drawer? Nada. Where did it go? I knew it had to be in one of those drawers, I remember putting it in the top on when I did dishes the other day. I shrugged it off and grabbed the biggest spoon I could find and finished cooking my food.
The next day I returned home after a long day at work. I was beyond exhausted. I had to go in far earlier than I was scheduled, so I was running an eight hour shift going on three hours of sleep. I was ready to crash on the couch and not wake again for another month.
I got out of my car and made my way to the front door, keys in hand. I went to unlock the door, but before I stuck the keys in the hole, I twisted the handle on accident and the door opened. I my heart nearly stopped. Why was the door unlocked? I know for sure I locked it before I left. Hadn't I? I know I'd practically gotten up and left right after the call asking to come in early. But still, I would've locked the door.
I continued my way inside and felt my blood run cold as I saw around the corner that my bedroom light was on. That was something I knew almost for certain I'd turned off. I immediately grabbed my phone and dialed for the police.
"I'm sorry ma'am," the officer started, the thick mustache below his nose wriggling like a hairy caterpillar as he spoke, "There doesn't appear to be any signs of forced entry. Did you notice if anything was missing?"
I shook my head. I felt like he was talking to me like I was crazy. I know someone had been here. As I was waiting for them to arrive earlier, I swore it felt like something was missing. It had to have been something small, for it didn't notice it was gone right away.
After the officers left, I was all alone, standing in the middle of my living room with my thoughts being my only companion.
Someone had broken in, I just know it. Something just felt very off about this whole thing. This was the first time in nearly two years of living on my own that my door wasn't locked when I came home. The doors weren't that hard to open. Cheap wood and even cheaper locks were the only things keeping anyone in these apartments safe.
When I returned home the next day, I was relieved to find that my door was locked, just the way I'd left it. I unlocked it and was greeted with my dark apartment. I felt at peace when I saw there wasn't a light on in the distance. I was glad tonight was a normal night with nothing to give me unpleasant thoughts.
I flicked on my kitchen lights and sat my purse on the counter. Beside my... wooden spoon?
I picked up the spoon and examined it. This was the same spoon I couldn't find the other day. There's no way I would've left it on the counter for days. I couldn't have.
Just then I heard the front door behind me slam shut. I gasped and turned around quickly to see a dark shadow outside my front door window. They slowly waved to me before disappearing into the night.
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