Never Again Will I Open My Door After Midnight

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On mobile- please forgive any formatting errors, but this is my LNM, and it belongs here, I think.This happened when I was 18 and had just moved to a new, bigger, city about a 30 minute drive from the small town I grew up in.

 I moved into my first apartment in what I thought was a decent neighborhood, and lived there without incident for 6 months with my boyfriend at the time. 

Things began to sour between us and since my BF had recently lost his job, it was decided I would be the one to take over the lease and he would move out. 

It was sticky and unpleasant, but after some time of him dragging his feet, I was finally free of him. I had a friend from work move in to help with rent since it was a 2 bedroom and all was well for awhile.

One weekend during January, I had been out late seeing a musical in a nearby town, so I got home shortly after midnight, kicked off my shoes, and settled down with a bowl in front of the living room TV to unwind. My roommate was out of town all weekend visiting family, so I had the place to myself and didn’t bother being quiet about it. I was still wearing my dress and tights, completely relaxing, when I heard a knock at my door a couple feet to my left.

 I glanced at the clock, which read almost 1 AM, and I thought ‘WHO THA FUCQ is knocking on my door this late?!’My front door had a half window covered by blinds, but it was very obvious I was home, as the TV was only a foot or so past the door.

 My spider senses began to tingle, but I was young, naive, and from a small town where things are pretty safe. I never thought what was about to happen would ever happen to me....I peaked out between the blinds without opening the door, flicked on my porch light, which illuminated a young man. He couldn’t have been more than 25, slight build, an African American guy, looking pretty damn harmless. (Background: I’m 5’2, 110 lbs, F) I’m pretty scrappy, so I looked at this dude and sized him up... I actually thought to myself “I could probably take him if I need too...” before hollaring through the door “Yes?” He launched into a story, talking fast, about how he’d just gotten into a car accident in front of my house, his young daughter was hurt, and his phone had been slung in the wreck... it was lost, could he please use my phone to call an ambulance? My heart was immediately in my throat. A hurt child?! This man needed my help, but something still felt wrong. 

I told him I’d call 911 for him, he said “that would be fine” but could he please use my phone to call the child’s mother to explain they were going to the ER. This seemed reasonable to me in my young, naive brain... but I was still wary. Against my better judgement (trust me, after this, someone could be on fire on my front stoop and I wouldn’t open the door for them after this lesson learned), I cracked the door and quickly slipped the phone out to him, locking the pad lock the moment my hand was clear. 

I still felt something was wrong, so as he made a call which I could not hear, I paced my living room floor and even grabbed a kitchen knife, holding it down to my side, waiting. Everything in my body was screaming at me that something was wrong, but I couldn’t turn away from a hurt child. I just couldn’t. I wanted to help.

A few moments passed and I seemed to calm a bit, briefly sitting down to wait, I put the kitchen knife down next to me on the sofa. When I heard a knock signaling me that dude was done, I got up without thinking and walked to the door, leaving the knife behind.I cracked the door, only an inch, just as before and he went to slip the phone back to me. It was at this moment, everything changed. Suddenly, a much larger man stepped from the shadow to the left of my door.

 I briefly registered he was wearing a ski mask and my heart jumped to my throat in an instant. He kicked the heavy metal door before I even had a second to react, which being still ajar, flew into me knocking me backwards and to the ground. Another man came from the other side of the door, all of them rushing forward into my apartment!!! I’m not sure if there were 3 or 4 total, but suddenly 3 large masked men were looming over me as I lay stunned on my apartment floor.

They stood between me and the exit and began to circle me, closing ranks. My mind registered that they were screaming at me, various things along the lines of “Give me all your money, bitch!”The largest of them reached into his brown carhart coat and withdrew a gun, which he pointed at me as I lay at their feet, still stunned by the force of the door hitting me and knocking me to the ground.Fight or flight kicked in and my brain SCREAMED at me “FIGHT for your fucking life!” (Now before I get an ear full, let me say- you really don’t know how you’ll react in a situation until you’ve been the one staring down the barrel of a gun.... instinct made me do this, and I know... it wasn’t the smartest thing PER SAY, but this is just what happened... can’t change it now.)

 I recall the men bouncing up and down while they screamed at me.

 In retrospect, it seems almost comical how they jumped around me.

In the heat of the moment, I looked up and decided they’d shoot me if they wanted to, but I was NOT going down without a fight and I was not about to let them drag me down the hallway to a bedroom and do god knows what with me either. I looked up at the gun inches from my face and I got ANGRY. I reached up my hand and smacked it away (luckily, I didn’t die) then immediately reached out and grabbed the coat of the nearest guy, using it to haul myself to my feet. 

I was almost up and I even managed to throw a punch, which moved the ski mask of the one I swung at, barely landing, but affording me a glimpse of his face, when one reached out and knocked me back down. HARD. But I wouldn’t be stopped... I barely felt the blow, which left me bruised later. 

Hands flying, I struck out in every way imaginable. I kicked out at them from the self defense position I’d been taught in a safety class. I was a whirlwind of hair, nails, and fists. Looking up at them, I briefly registered that from the looks on their faces, this robbery and this girl was not going or reacting as anticipated. They were flustered by my apparent lack of fear. 

They hadn’t expected me to not give one flying fuck about that gun in my face, I had literally smacked it away when they pointed it at me. (Again, SO lucky it didn’t go off and I die. I know this.)My mind became focused enough to register “I need help!”. I was alone in my apartment, but hopefully they didn’t know that.

 I began to scream at the very top of my lungs “Micheal!!!!” Over and over I yelled his name at the top of my lungs. Micheal was my neighbor, ex military, a mountain of a man who I knew owned guns and shared a living room wall with my flat. They must have thought I wasn’t alone, because they panicked and fled out the front door, taking my cell phone and purse as they went, fleeing into the dark night. 

I ran after them, barefoot in the snow, screaming “Help! Help!” to no one but the night sky, adrenaline pumping through my veins like fire. Micheal emerged at my side, carrying a shot gun, dressed only in boots and boxers. I pointed to the tracks in the snow, and bless him, he pursued them, coming back a moment later empty handed. My phone was gone.

 I tried to call my parents from his but no one answered. Micheal let me spend the rest of the night on his couch, since I was quickly becoming hysterical now that my adrenaline was ebbing.I called the police. 

They came. I made a report. News vultures quickly appeared outside my building and I ended up being the top story on the news the next morning, although I declined to be on TV. I just wanted to be done.Looking back, I was very lucky. 

I could have been shot, killed, raped, whatever they’d wanted to do to me... luckily, my insane response startled the shit out of them and they ran.

 I’m more street smart now, carry a taser and pepper spray everywhere I go, and never allow my sympathy for another person to endanger my own life. Sucks I have to think that way, but I’d rather live as a bitch, than die a good samaritan.I moved out shorty after, breaking my lease citing concerns for personal safety. I had the police report to prove it, and thankfully my landlord understood and let me go.

 I found a new place and take great care to listen to my instincts when they speak up.So, 3 masked men who broke into my apartment when I was 18.... let’s not meet.