Crime happens. A lot. Though, honestly, it hasn’t happened much at all in my life (admittedly I’ve been really blessed). And though it hasn’t necessarily been in my life, it’s been on my mind since I was wee little. I loved reading the paper, poring over crime stories. It was like I was destined to write mysteries or something.
I’m still completely fascinated by crime. The psychology behind it. The desperation. The fear. The violation. The aftermath. How perfect to weave all that into a fictional novel.
But when it’s reality? A whole different kind of story.
Last weekend, my son’s car was broken into in front of our house. In our quiet little suburban neighborhood where TPing someone’s house is a big deal. Someone broke his passenger window, stole his Ipod, his GPS system, a phone (but left his wallet because--LOL--for once it was a good thing he had no money in it.)
In the grand scheme of things, it’s a small potatoes kind of crime. No one was hurt and insurance covered the window at no charge (but the contents weren’t worth the cost of the deductible unfortunately). To know that someone was just out front… It’s scary, and I’d much rather go back living in my idyllic little world where crime only happens in newspapers.
Whoever broke into the car also broke into 14 other cars in the area that night. No one has been caught, and I wonder if they realize just how much they stole that night. Things that aren’t covered by insurance or bought at a store. Things like peace of mind and a sense of security. The sad thing is I doubt it, and if they did--they probably don't care...
Anyone been through this kind of thing before? Any tips on dealing with it?