December 02, 2011|
I stand at the door for some reason, I think I'm about to leave, when a man's form appears through the looking hole. He looks unassuming, a typical scruffy kid. But the lock begins to turn, and I ask who he is, and he claims he lives here, and it goes this way for a while, this back and forth, and I'm practically flirting with him, the joking manner I'm handling this. My phone is there, and I'd call the cops, but I don't want him to see how serious I've become. I run back to my mothers room, and I tell her to call, but I don't even know if she is there. When I come back to the door, he's almost in, and I lock him out again. A large black man appears with him and they leave. The two men have now become five or six. I call the police, tell them the men are going east. The black man splinters off and checks the yard's gate lock, getting in, the cops tell me they'll call me back. I go to my room which looks over the yard, and see a woman with short blonde punkish hair, not sure if she's a tenant, but I am mostly concerned for her more than suspicious. My blinds are wide open, though they aren't supposed to be. The frame of my skylight has plummeted and there is water falling from the ceiling. I close the blinds, move the frame off my bed, unsuccessful in replacing it, am becoming increasingly cold and soaked as I hear the muffled conversations outside, as I try not to understand them, because of what they might mean.