Shots Fired

This morning, Leonard asked me why I didn't know something was going on - with all of the sirens. I don't actually know what I heard. We hear so many sirens - all the time, what with the fire station just down the way. They are always traveling west and I just absorb them into my regular consciousness. In my last blog post, I said that the knock on the door was at 1 am, but I realized that it was midnight ... I do NOT like being freaked out in the middle of the night. That is supposed to be my quiet time!

Imagine me ... standing at my front door ... with it wide open at 3:15 am, trying to figure out what has just happened. There is a police car directly in front of my house - pointed north at my house with its flashers going: blue/red/blue/red/blue/red/blue/red. Annoying! I looked out - saw all of the crime scene tape - totally wrapped around the two houses and dentist's office directly to the east. I was worried that something had happened to the girls next door and I didn't know it!

I don't know if there was anyone in that police car - doubtful, now that I think about it. It was parked across Leavenworth - and there was tape all down the south side of the street, too. Surely, they would have seen me - in my nightgown - trying to figure out what was going on and at least tried to give me some information - or ask if I knew anything. And ... duh ... I didn't!

I came back upstairs to get away from the flashing lights - sat down in my chair and totally freaked out. What in the heck had happened? So, I looked up the number online for the police department, called them and asked. When she told me that a shooting had happened at the convenience store, my first reaction was relief - the girls next door were ok. I hung up and panic set in. If the police were still here - that meant they didn't catch whoever did it.

I really needed to talk to someone and poor Max was sound asleep. But, at some point, my panic was going to get too great to handle and I was waking him up! He's the husband, he needs to take care of me. But, before I could do that, he woke up to go to the bathroom. He stumbled down the hall and muttered - "What's up with the flashing lights?" I told him what was going on. Poor guy - I talked to him the entire time he was in the bathroom. That settled me down quite a bit - just being able to say it out loud and knowing that I was not the only person that knew about this!

He went back to sleep and I knew that I was NOT sleeping anytime soon - so I watched some episodes of "The Unit" and waited for him to get up for the day.

I fell asleep about 8 - woke up for good at 12:45. I'm still pretty freaked out - I've cried several times - don't know if it's frustration or fear or exhaustion.

I can't wait for him to get home from work now.

When our house was broken into several years ago - it only took a few weeks for me to feel comfortable and safe in the house again - I'll get over this more quickly, I assume. I just wish I knew why this girl was shot - was it random, while they were driving down 52nd Street? Did they know her - did she get in their way? Is it safe for me to stand outside with Leica at night? Sheesh ... I hate this.