Last summer apart from looking for jobs, I had also spent allot of time, looking for an apartment to live in. It was my last semester being an RA (Resident Assistant) for Coastal Carolina’s University Housing on account of my graduating, so my life living in student housing was coming to a sudden end. I really wanted to live on my own, however, my given circumstances and the realities of life drove me to seek out new roommates and Hunny, I’m so over that shit!
I was going to live with this one tall-dark-and-drop-dead-gorgeous chick, but after spending two weeks of her not communicating well with me, I reverted back to looking for a place of my own again, until a dear friend of mine that I’ve know since freshman year told me she was looking for a new roommate to replace the one who ditched her for love. Time was running short for me, and I knew and liked this girl anyway. It felt like God had opened up the gates of heaven just to say “I gotchu girl!” I was very happy. The place had most of the things I was looking for: My own bathroom, (fairly) affordable rent, the school was close by, and water was included in the rent. We also have an on-sight laundromat, but I’d prefer one in my quarters (so I could save my quarters, ya know?)
I moved in by the end of July last year, met my roommate’s boyfriend, who I’ve spoken about before on here, and I was under the impression it was going to be a chill semester/year for me (as far as home life goes)… but I spoke too soon. The house (I call it “house” , but it’s actually a tiny ass condo) officially belonged partially to me when I sealed the deal and signed the lease. And Hunny, the VERY.NEXT.DAY a motherfuckin’ shit-show went down.
I was coming home from a typical night out, when I noticed that my door was locked. Now, I know that’s technically good and it should be considered a normal thing when a door to all of your belongings, loved ones, personal documents and things of the such is locked. But Hunny, in my experience, when a door is locked, some shady shit is going down. Up until that point the door has NEVER been locked, regardless of whether my roommates had stepped out of the house, were fast asleep, or incoherent on the couch. It really threw me off when I unlocked the door and found that the second lock needed some unlocking. And not only that, but the damn chain was up too!! Hunny, talk about locked uuuupp!!
Despite all the security measures someone in the house was taking, it was a bit unsettling knowing how easy it was to undo the chain from the outside, but at that moment, I didn’t give to much of a fuck because I was ready to crash. I did the locks and chain back the way they were, went straight to my room and stripped to my underwear, when suddenly I heard a thud at the door. I froze. Waiting to hear what this mystery person would do next. Like knock perhaps? One by one from within my room I heard as the locks to the entrance were slowly being breached. After that final click of the second lock, I heard how the door swiftly opened, only to be stopped by the chain. There was a pause. Still half naked standing in the darkness of my room, I assumed this mystery person was someone who lived here, since he/she was able to get past the first two locks. I slowly made my way to the door to further investigate the situation, when suddenly * BOOM! * a force hit the outside of my room door, I heard metal from the outside hit the floor, all the while footsteps entering the space. Soon after that, yet another whirlwind hit the space. Still frozen in my tracks, I heard heavy objects make the floor tremble, glass shatter, the walls shake and the sound of my female roommate fill the house with agonizing cries, pleading the mystery person to stop.
At that point I knew we were broken into, rape and possible theft was in the making, and definite murder will take place. It was only a matter of time before the mystery person would find me too, so without any further hesitation I locked my door, grabbed my phone, went into my bathroom, locked that door and dialed 9-1-1. A number I never thought I would have to use in my personal life.
Dispatcher: 9-1-1 what”s your emergency?
Me: Yes, I believe my house has been broken into. There’s allot of furniture and glass crashing and my roommate is screaming ‘please stop’, and ‘don’t do this’ and stuff.
Dispatcher: Do you know who’s in the house
Me: No, and I don’t want to find out. I’m naked and locked in my bathroom listening to my roommate screaming. I’d prefer someone gets here before the screaming stops because if it does, I’ll assume she’s dead.
Dispatcher: Wha’ts your address?
Me: *gives address*
Dispatcher: We have someone on the way
Me: Thank you
After hanging up with the dispatcher, all I could do was play the waiting game in the dark, listening to the elevator music that was my friend’s now strained voice screaming for mercy.
Moments seemed like days, but eventually my phone rang again with the dispatcher on the other line, telling me I should be hearing a knock on the door any moment now. * Knock knock *
Me: Isn’t he just going to come in?
Dispatcher: No, you’ll have to open the door for him
Me: *so no matter what I do, I’m going to come out of this situation a dead man is what I’m hearing* OK, I’m walking to the door.
I hang up the phone unlock my bathroom door tip-toe to my door and unlock it. As quietly and slowly as possible I open my door and find the mystery person standing right in front of me. It was my roommate’s boyfriend.
He stood uncomfortably close to me. I could feel his breath condensate on my face as he asked “Did you call the cops?” . I couldn’t look him in the eye. I nodded and whispered “yeah” as I slowly reached around his body to open the door for the officer. The boyfriend quickly stormed out of the house and my roommate promptly followed. I on the other hand, locked my ass right back in my room, all scared like. Now I knew who broke in the house and was responsible for all the chaos, and the chaos maker knew who to target for calling the cops. DAMN!!
I hoped the boyfriend would get arrested and taken away, so I could at least have some time to go underground, but the cop did nothing. I peeked out of my window and watched as the cop drove away. I felt so wronged and left for dead! Both my roommate and the boyfriend returned to the house and began having some kind of extreme confessional time, yelling at each other about what bad people they are, that they’ve both been cheating on each other and things like that.
After the boyfriend stormed out of the house, I heard my roommate sobbing and apologizing. At first, I thought she was going through some type of regret phase about everything she had just confessed to her boyfriend. Then I imagined her having a mental break down and talking to herself. I gave it about a minute or two before I stepped out of my room to check on her. Coming out of my room and looking at the rest of the house, I was able to see all the damage that was done. The shutters were ripped off its hinges, the wall had a hole punched into it, the table was thrown against the wall, glass shards from the mirrors were scattered all over the floor…. then my gaze went from the damaged house to a strange man standing in front of me. My roommate was in such an apologetic state. She told me how all of this was never supposed to happen and how grateful she was that I had called the cops or this strange man might have been beaten to death.
The next day, I woke up and met the family of my roommate who traveled through the night to be here in the morning. We got our locks changed and tried to go on with life from there. We spent a fair amount of time together debriefing about the details on what went down the night prior, but after that I just tried to go back to normal. Later in the evening, however, the boyfriend returned. The locks and the chain were up and I had no intentions of opening the door. My roommate went to the door and to my surprise opened it. I could hear the boyfriend crying and apologizing, and I heard my roommate say to him that he cannot stay here. For a moment things went quiet. All I heard were small footsteps that I identified as my roommate’s, who stepped foot outside to call the police and her family. Everyone arrived very quickly. I went outside to find out what exactly was happening as well.
The boyfriend passed out in the kitty litter in my roommates bathroom of all places, and was not responding. The officer refused to do anything about it and mentioned that he was tired of constantly coming back to our place when we call for help, which is never anything a person wants to hear, when they actually want the police around for once. He said we needed some kind of unattainable document and he threw in a couple of other cop and legal terms that only meant “You’re shit out of luck” to me. So instead we evacuated the house. I grabbed my things I needed for school the next day, a blanket and my toiletries and got dropped off at my friend misbehaven‘s place, where I waited on another friend of mine to pick me up, so that I can return to my place and get my laptop and leftover ihop, since I feared both were subject to being stolen, broken or pawned and/or eaten.
My friend arrived and we drove back over to my place… and the door was locked and chained yet again.
The boyfriend opened the door and stared. As scared as I was I tried to come off as assertive and confident as possible. “I’m getting my ihop and computer”, I said and walked passed the boyfriend into my room. The lights in my room weren’t working at the time, so I had to manage in the dark. After packing my laptop I sat down in front of my mini fridge next to my door. That’s when the boyfriend approached my friend and I.
Boyfriend: You don’t even know the half of it do you? I would smash your head in for calling the cops, but if I was in your place, I would’ve called the cops too, so I’m not.
Me: Thanks for being understanding.
Boyfriend: I couldn’t even if I wanted to. You see this? *shows hand in shitty cast* I broke my hand beating the shit out of that guy’s face. She was cheating on me. I came home, the doors were locked and I was like oh that’s weird, so I look through the window to see if that guy was still where I left him. He was gone, so brake in, go in the room and see her sitting on his dick. So I take her off of it I jump on him and start punching the fucker. After one hand started hurting too bad, I just used the other one. Bet you didn’t know that huh?
Boyfriend: *stares at my friend and I* Do I look gay to you?
Me: *shakes head no*
Boyfriend: I mean do I look like I would do anything gay in the slightest?”, he says as he comes closer.
Me: *remains seated on the floor motionless in fear of possibly getting raped and the shit beaten out of him. Or in this case possibly fucked out of him.
Boyfriend: Well I let guys suck my dick for money. That’s right! I was out making money, so I can put food on the table and she did that shit to me!!
I don’t recall how I made it out of there safely, but I’m glad I did. Since those two nights, I’ve lived in fear of the boyfriend, thinking any moment, especially when fucked up, he could rape and beat me. However, he’s been doing what he can to convince me that he’s no one to be feared. He just sees and does things differently than what I’m used to, which is fine I guess. Hunny, I don’t judge… Some things he tells me actually makes sense in a way, once ya get to sit down and talk with the guy. He and my roommate are still going strong as well. All’s well, ends well, I guess.
Thanks for reading!