Before my divorce, I thought being home alone was so relaxing. So freeing. A moment in which I didn’t need to worry about anyone but me and if I laid on the couch the whole time and left the dirty dishes in the sink till later, there was no one to criticize me.
After my divorce, when the kids were at their dad’s, it just felt lonely.
Not all the time, sometimes it really was nice to just eat chips and do nothing. Or take an hour long bath with a bath bomb and a good book. But today I was feeling lonely.
I needed friends.
Part of my bed time routine is to go around the house and pick up any last dishes and trash as I turn the lights off. The dogs normally walk with me but tonight they were in the backyard and hadn’t been quite ready to come in. As I reached my son’s bedroom and reached for the light switch, I frowned. I had thought I already turned this one off. Maybe I was more tired than I thought. I flicked the switch, picked up a plate off of his bed, and moved on.
After I convinced the dogs to come in, I made my way to my own bedroom.
My son’s light was on.
I had turned that off… Didn’t I?
My husky, Chloe, stood next to me this time, ears back flat. A low growl sounded from her throat. I quietly made my way to my bedroom and grabbed my phone and my gun. 911 keyed in, ready to hit the call button.
Chloe and I walked through the room, joined by my lab Max. I checked under the bed as they sniffed corners. We checked the closet together. Nothing. No one. I checked the windows, still locked.
Chloe relaxed as we walked back out of the room. I flicked off the light.
I walked through the rest of the house with both dogs by my side. It’s a small enough house. Three bedrooms, but barely. No basement, no attic.
My skin prickled with goose bumps. I made sure the doors and the windows were all locked. Maybe I was losing my mind. Maybe there was an electrical issue. I would call the electrician if it happened again.
I brought the dogs into my bedroom and shut and locked the door. Phone plugged in nearby. Gun went in the bedside table drawer. Normally I kept it locked tight in a safe, I swear I’m a responsible gun owner. But the light thing had me on edge and the kids weren’t there.
I’d felt both relief and loneliness at being home alone before. Some anger at my ex for putting me in this position. Fear was new. I didn’t like it much.
As I lay in bed, I reassured myself that it was just me being silly. The doors and windows were all still locked and I had two dogs who barked if anyone so much as walked past the house. If someone was here, I would know. I needed more sleep, that’s why I must have forgotten to turn off the light. Twice.
I fell asleep with my face to the door. I woke up to my dogs barking. It took one groggy second to realize that my bedroom door was open. It was still dark through the windows but light streamed through the open door.
I had 911 dialed before I’d formed my next full thought and I fumbled in my drawer for my gun.
My heart stopped as I emerged from my bedroom to find every light in the house on.
I was sobbing on my neighbor’s porch when the police car pulled up minutes later. My dogs barked from behind her front door as she did her best to comfort me with a blanket and a cup of tea.
They searched the house but didn’t find anyone. As kindly as they could, they asked if I was on any medications or if I’d been drinking. I wasn’t and a glass of wine didn’t make me sleep walk around my house and turn the lights on.
They cleared me to go back in but my neighbor offered to let me sleep in her spare room if I wanted and I took her up on it.
When I went back the next morning, it was with a heart that beat too quickly and with dogs who could sense my nerves. We reinspected every part of the house but everything seemed fine. The lights were still on, probably left that way by the police though.
It was fine.
I checked every inch of that house, made sure all of the doors and windows were locked, and sat on the couch trying to decide what to do next.
I got a locksmith. It was more expensive than I would have liked, especially asking them to get there that day, but rekeying all of the doors seemed like a good idea given that someone had entered my house and my locked bedroom door.
I shivered thinking about it.
I had one more night alone in the house. Till next weekend. I wasn’t sure if I felt worse about being alone or the possibility of someone trying this when my kids were here.
I decided it was better that I was alone for it. I couldn’t imagine the added terror of someone breaking in with my kids.
When bedtime came, I was methodical. Room by room, starting from the furthest point, turning off all of the lights.
I made it to my room and glanced back down the hall. The kitchen light was on. I had started in the kitchen.
Gun gripped in my hand, I took a step back down the hall. The light flipped off. I screamed and locked myself in my bedroom as I called the police.
I spent the night at my neighbor’s again. I called my ex husband and explained the situation. I asked if the kids could stay with him while I figured out what was happening and he agreed.
In the morning, I called an alarm company. Another expense I didn’t need. They put sensors on each window and helped me install cameras at the front and back door. If someone triggered an alarm and I didn’t punch in the code, they would send someone out.
At least if whoever was messing with me tried something, the psycho would be caught.
That night, no lights were turned on as I made my way to bed. I barely slept, waking up from a dream of someone standing over me several times. I walked out of my bedroom and the lights were on. I called the police who checked the house for the third time in as many days and told me they couldn’t find anyone. The sensors hadn’t been triggered and there was no one on the cameras when I watched them.
Was I doing this? Maybe I was sleepwalking? Stress could make you do that, couldn’t it?
That night, I triple checked everything. The dogs slept in my room with the door locked. I awoke to the sound of glass shattering. My bedroom door was open, dogs nowhere in sight, light flooded through the door. I ran to the kitchen and stopped just short of stepping in. The floor was covered in glass. My cabinets were all open. Every single glass, plate, and bowl were on my floor in pieces.
I was on the phone with the dispatcher as I looked around frantically for my dogs. I heard Chloe bark and peered out the window into the dark. They were outside.
After the police showed up, for the fourth night in a row, I cried myself back to sleep in my neighbor’s spare bedroom.
In the morning, she helped me clean up the glass and we sat down and watched the security footage together. I wasn’t sure how whoever was doing this had gotten in now that I had changed the locks and secured the windows, but surely they couldn’t avoid being on camera as they lured my dogs out of the house.
And yet, there was no one.
We went through the footage for both the front and back door. No one comes anywhere near my front door. We slowed down frame by frame when we got to the point that the dogs went outside. The back door opens. My lights are already on. Chloe appears in the doorway, head cocked. Her ears are up as if she’s paying attention to something but she doesn’t appear nervous or frightened. Max walks up next to her and appears to jump up as if he were greeting someone. Then both dogs run outside. After a minute, the back door closes again.
“I need to move. I need to move now. I can’t live here anymore.”
My neighbor helped me pack, it was a haphazard rush job. I stayed with her the next few nights and only packed during the day. Each morning when I came in all of my lights were on. Boxes would be overturned. I got a nice apartment, similar living space size really even if there’s no backyard. I started moving boxes in at the end of every day. I was relieved when everything was moved in.
I’ve been in my new apartment for a week and today when I awoke all of my lights were on.