It was honestly horrible.

I was 19 and living with my boyfriend (he was 18) and we were in a tiny crappy house we were renting. We were SUPER broke. There were a few nice things (like TV and laptop) but we were just starting out so nothing special.

One night at work I get a call from my bf telling me he thinks someone broke into our house, because the window in our kitchen is broken and his computer's gone. By the time I got home, there was a cop dusting for fingerprints and I walked around my home (which, even though it wasn't much- I had poured my heart into making it a nice home) was destroyed. Things thrown everywhere, koolaid spilled everywhere (apparently they were thirsty), things that were important to me but held no monetary value were stolen.

I cried so hard that night, and I don't think I got a good night sleep for at least a month. Every noise I heard I thought was the burglars. My boyfriend had to travel for work, and every time he was out of town I was a wreck. I was convinced they would come back.

About a month later, we get a call from the cops working the case (one of whom is one of the nicest men I've ever met in my life. Went above and beyond to help us feel safe as possible) and they had not only identified who did it, but they also found our computer and brought it back to us.

Apparently, it was a young couple who broke in looking to steal things to sell for drug money. According to the cops, they broke into 32 homes in the area. Although we didn't get all of our stuff back, we did get a check for the estimated value of what they stole, so it all worked out on that end.

But honestly the worst part is the fact that I don't feel 100% safe alone at home anymore. Its been 3 years since that happened, and we live in a much much safer place now, but anytime my boyfriend is out of town for work I get easily freaked out. I'll even sleep with the TV on, because if it's silent any noise I hear gives me a heart attack. It's annoying as fuck.