It’s been a garbage few days, honestly. Domi died, and then I dropped my glasses case as I was getting into the car. They were still there when we got home, but Mum had driven over them as we left.
Thankfully, my Versace case took one for the team, and whilst it is crushed beyond repair, my glasses were only slightly bent. Your sacrifice was not in vain, Versace case! I haven’t been wearing my new glasses all the time at the moment, and at that moment I was SO glad, because if I had been, it would have been them in my case and they have bigger, plastic frames and definitely wouldn’t have survived. So, the glass is definitely half full.
Anyway, things happen in threes. So what was my third thing?
Sunday night, about 10pm, I went to hop into the shower. Now, our bathroom looks out onto the shed and the swimming pool with two windows that open out and latch with a long metal arm. These windows are very common in Australia, I don’t know about the rest of the world. Our windows have thick, etched glass in them, which gives us privacy in the bathhroom from anyone in the garden. When I have a shower late, I generally leave the windows opens, since no one is in the yard at 10pm and our neighbours are far enough away they cannot see in. It means the bathroom doesn’t steam up.
Well, on Sunday they were shut when I went into the bathroom, and I didn’t bother opening them again.
As soon as I stripped, I saw something outside. Again, the etched glass means everything is kind of hazy and indistinct. Add the fact I had taken off my glasses, and it was even more hazy. I thought, ‘Wait, is that a person?’ Both my parents were already in bed, and I thought perhaps the light the neigbours leave on every night (seriously, they leave it on even when they are away and it shines straight into my room. And that woman had the balls to confront me about staying up late with my bedroom light on!). And then, I thought perhaps something was wrong with the pool, and someone had gone out to check.
And then a second person appeared. I crammed my glasses onto my face.
And then a third person appeared and actually tried to peer in.
I yelled for my mother than someone was in the yard, wrapped myself in a towel and hid in the hallway.
She went out with a flashlight and found them. And one of the guys said to my mother, the owner of the property they were trespassing on, “Just leave it and go.” It wasn’t until afterwards that Mum realised they were talking to her, not each other. If I had known this, shit would have hit the fan very quickly
Anyway, Mum convinced me to go back into the shower, that they were gone.
So I got into the shower. Lala, getting ready to wash my hair.
When one of the guys knocks on the bathroom window – they’d been hiding in our shed.
I have always been convinced that I don’t have a horror-movie scream in me. That if I was ever being attacked or in danger, a hoarse crock-shriek would come out and no one would help me.
Well, I proved myself wrong. I probably won’t be auditioning for Wolf Creek 2 any time soon, but, well, I can scream. And, boy, did I scream.
What I thought happened next was that my father got out of bed and went to confront the asshats that were harrassing his eldest daughter and Mum had decided to stay with me. What actually happened was my mother had to go and get my father out of bed, because apparently there is nothing wrong with your twenty-four year old daughter screaming like she’s being molested from the bathroom. God knows if it was my sister, he would have been up in an instant, but apparently my scream had enough of a battle-cry to it that he figured I’d deal with them myself.
And boy, did I plan to. I was going to rip those guys a new one and possibly bludgeon them with my industrial flashlight while I was at them. Mum wasn’t comforting me, she was trying to stop me from being charge with gross bodily harm. My scream wasn’t just fear and shock, it was bloody-murder.
I got out there and my father was sending them packing with stern words.
The guys were seriously drunk, and one had thrown another’s mobile phone into our yard, and they’d gone looking for it. Mum thought, for awhile, that perhaps they’d knocked on the bathroom window for help, but they heard me yell about them the first time – they were either being perverts or asshats.
We did end up calling the police, just to let them know that four drunken guys had been peering into windows and were driving (I didn’t see the fourth guy, I hope he was sober enough to drive) around our area. Mum says that she saw a police car patrolling later on.
We live up the road from a pub and 99% of the patrons are funny and nice – like the guys who waited for me at the church gates because I had gone to get my phone out of the car in my pjs and, complimented my choice of pjs. Or the guys that called out to me (I was on the computer in my room) and offered me a beer before realising they had no beer, and then offered me money for a beer before realising they had no money and wished me a good night ‘girl on the computer’.
But goddamnit, they scared me last night.
At least I know what my battle-cry sounds like – 25% frightened, 25% shocked and 50% angry animal.