Monthly Archives: June 2015


Last night I went through my nightly security check three times. These so-called ‘Shawshank’ murderers on the loose from some prison in New York could be here, where I live by now. They could. There’s so many places for them to hide around my house it’s insane. A long time ago, I was watching TV with my husband and we saw a couple of police cars go by. That’s pretty unusual in my community. I went outside and looked down the street, but I didn’t see anything and I wasn’t gonna go walking down the street at 10pm in my pajamas. So I went back in and almost as soon as my butt hit the couch, the doorbell rang. The doorbell never rings. Unless something is wrong. It was a police officer; he explained that a state trooper had been shot and critically wounded out on the highway after pulling some guys over and the perpetrators had escaped on foot into the woods between the highway and my community. He told us to secure the premises and report any suspicious activity. So I went through the house and checked all the windows and doors and looked under the beds and in the closets. We debated about putting the lights on in the basement and lower level; would that deter them or help them see how to get in better? We decided no lights. Then lights. Then no lights. Then we checked everything one more time and decided we had to try to get some sleep. I think I might have actually dozed off when all of a sudden the house shook. Whoop whoop whoop whoop whoop whoop whoop. Then bright lights cutting through the side seams of the shades. It was straight outta Close Encounters of the Third Kind. We peeked around the window shades. A helicopter was hovering over the house with a giant search light slowly scanning the our back yard. “Fuck, they’re here!” We watched the search light move to the side yard, then to the front yard. Now we were in the front bedroom peering through the shades when I noticed the the red light on the phone. I tapped my husband and pointed to the phone. “They’re here in the house. They’re making a phone call on the phone downstairs!” I said. He looked at me and said “No, you idiot, they’ve cut the phone lines outside so we can’t call for help.” I forgot how much TV crime stuff he watches. “Oh my god! We have to try to make a run for the front door and get out in the street.” Despite having just called me an idiot, he got right on my plan. Now we’re out in the street, but we’re only out there a minute until a county police car comes by. We flag him down and tell him the perps are at our house. Five police cars skid onto our lawn. Actually four, one was in the driveway. They fling their doors open, jump out, and draw their guns. “Holy Shit, we’re gonna have a shootout.” Without even being told, we move behind one of the police cars. They swarm the grounds, then into the house, all the lights on. Looks like a party. One of the police officers comes to tell us that everything looks clear but tells us to be careful and report any suspicious activity. I ask if a couple of officers could come back in with us; I explain that our phones are not working. This is BCF (before cell phones). We go in the house and the officer picks the phone up in the kitchen. It’s beeping. Maybe another phone in the house is off the hook, he asks. We go down to the lower level. Yes, the phone is off the hook. I hang it back up and explain, in the most non-crazy sounding way I can, that I am very meticulous and would never leave a phone off the hook and could we please look through the house again. We look everywhere, including behind the furnace. All the while I’m thinking ‘I sure hope these police officer’s shoes don’t make any marks on my rugs.’ “Okay ma’am, everything looks okay. You all have a good night and call us if you see anything suspicious.”

After they left, I checked every lock again. I drew curtains, shades, and put on lights. Maybe we should leave the TV on? My husband said we need to try and get some sleep and, “Oh, remember when Barbara called and I came up to get you? I think I might’ve left the phone off the hook. I can’t remember if I went back down or not.”

They were caught two days later behind a convenience store twenty plus miles from where I live. The only suspicious thing here was my dang mind.

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