On the night of March 12, 2001, I had just come home from a long day at work. I was glad to be home. However, as I approached my apartment, I noticed that my kitchen door was open. Did I forget to close it? I had gotten a little worried, but that worry would turn into fear once I checked out what had happened inside.
When I walked into the living room, I saw that my patio door had been left open. And then I looked at my shelves. No stereo. No amplifier. No DVD player. No cassette deck. Miraculously, my TV, VCR and computer were left untouched.
As I approached my bedroom, I saw a huge pile of Styrofoam balls on the floor. I didn’t know where they came from. Later I found out that the burglar had sliced open my beanbag chair, dumped its contents on my floor, and used the sack to haul my stereo off.
This is what my bedroom looked like. My window had been shattered, allowing the burglar to enter my apartment. He then dug through my dresser, dumping the clothes on the bed. Despite the big mess he made, he didn’t take anything other than a bag for my rollerblades. The rollerblades themselves were found lying on the floor in my living room.
I called 911 and a policeman showed up a few minutes later. He examined my apartment and the broken bedroom window, looking for clues. His conclusion was that it must have been some kids. Great. As if that’s supposed to make me feel better.
I absolutely could not sleep that night. I was terrified, thinking that the burglar might return for a second helping. He never came back. My stolen items never turned up, either, but it doesn’t matter anymore. I have left it all behind now. I have long since left this slummy apartment in Lake Park, Florida. This is all a reminder, that despite the redevelopment and construction to make Lake Park look like a great town, there’s still that ugly side that just won’t go away.