While I was in college I lived in Boulder, CO. Since I also worked full time I specifically wanted to live away from campus to avoid the drunk, loud, college atmosphere. I found a quiet little apartment
building on the southeast side of town that had mainly single professionals and older individuals who were downsizing. I was the youngest person in the building. I was friendly with my neighbors, but mainly kept to myself. I lived there for five years, and
felt very comfortable and safe.
A few times in the last year I lived there I would come home and notice that my deadbolt wasn't locked, and my blinds would
be a little messed up. The blinds I wrote off because I have a cat who loves to sit in the window, so I figured that she was responsible for the blinds. The deadbolt was confusing to me because I was very disciplined about locking the deadbolt every time I
left the house. I was also confused because nothing was ever missing or out of place. The first time I figured I must have forgotten to lock the door. The second time I called my boyfriend, John, and told him I thought I had a ghost in my apartment. We laughed
it off, but I made a mental note that the next time I come home and notice the blinds are a mess I am going to test the door without putting the key in.
few weeks later I was given an opportunity to test my theory. I had spent the night at John's and arrived home at 8:00am. My blinds were really a mess this time, so I turned the knob and sure enough the door swung wide open. My apartment had been officially
broken into. Even though I knew I shouldn't go into the apartment, I did. I had to make sure that my cat wasn't boiling in pot on the stove, or something awful. As soon as I located her hiding in the closet, I grabbed the phone book and called the police.
While I was waiting I looked around to take an inventory of what was missing. Oddly, nothing of value seemed to be gone. My TV, DVD player, computer, movies,
CDs, fine jewelry were not only still there, they hadn't even been touched. At first glance the only things missing were a bottle of vodka, that I had out from my father's visit the week before, some Marti Gras beads, and a bunch of bananas. Very strange.
However, my apartment was a mess. This person came into my apartment went through my drawers, took out my photographs, went through my mail, went through my clothes. I found clothing strewn all over the place, my bed was messed up, he drank a bottle of cough
syrup, and I think he even sat on my couch and watched TV. (My channels were all messed up when I turned it on).
After the police arrived and did all of
there investigating, and sample collecting, they told me to go through my apartment with them to see what else might be missing. Upon a closer look I saw that he unwrapped a birthday present that I had set aside for a friend just to see what it was, then he
put it back. I was dumping out all opened food products, at the police's suggestion, and some pills poured out of my milk. (Because of the cold temperature the pills never dissolved.) The biggest shock to me was once I opened my dresser drawers I saw that
he stole all of my underwear. He took every last pair even the dirty ones, which is why my clothes were everywhere, he went through my hamper. I had the pair I was wearing and that was it. He also took bras, lingerie, bathing suits, tank tops, pantyhose, my
invisible bra (Which are those things that look like chicken cutlets), any tops that were lacy or sheer, pajamas, and some tee-shirts. He also took massage oils and lotions out of my bedside table.
The police told me to move immediately, and not to provide a forwarding address. One of the officer's said this was a person who was very angry that they were not having sex with me, and that he was clearly escalating.
I took there advice and moved within a few weeks. I also switched jobs started going to a different gym and grocery store. This person was never found.
the police left my house that day I called a good friend of mine. I told her the whole story and she insisted that I come and stay with her for a few nights. Before we hung up I asked, “Do you mind if I use your washing machine? I have a
pair of underwear to wash.”
* Because this case was not solved I have omitted some details.