I've been having anxiety dreams where I wake up thinking the police are breaking into my house. Wait a minute, the police DID break into my house.
So to celebrate my nosedive into PTSD thanks to the unlawful entry of my premises by a bunch of badge jockeys, I went to the police station to get a copy of the police report from that fateful day.
They should publish it as a work of fiction.
I have never read such a bunch of shucking and jiving by people trying to protect their collective butts in my life. First they played with the timeliine. Then they left things out that would make them look bad.
In case you missed the gory details -- The R/O [responding officers if you didn't know] supposedly went to my house for a wellness check. But they went AFTER I'd spoken to the very woman from the village who had called it in. For some reason, she didn't bother to tell the cops I was alive and well. My contact with her was left out because that would make them look bad.
The R/O claim when they got to my house, they "peered" through my kitchen window and saw there were lights on in the house. This is physically not possible.
The bathroom light was on. But the bathroom is down the hall and two turns away from the kitchen. They could only see the bathroom light after coming in the house. And since when is having lights on in the house a reason to think someone may have fallen and can't get up?
There are other reasons that make me doubt that they "peered" into my kitchen window.
The bottom ledge of the kitchen window is more than six feet off the ground. You have to be seven feet tall to "peer" inside. Unless you've got a ladder. Or you stand on someone's shoulders.
And did I mention there's a three foot deep window well below the window?
Plus on a sunny day between 3:30 and 4:30 in the afternoon the only thing you can see when you look up at the kitchen window is a reflection of the trees and clouds.
Everything they describe seeing from the window as a reason to come inside, is stuff that's only visible from the kitchen DOOR when it's open and you're already inside. Frankly, I don't think they thought I'd ever ask for a police report.
Then they start trying to get around breaking and entering by saying that my back door latch was broken and the door popped open when they were banging on it. B-U-L-L-S-H-I-T. The real issue is that the back door was SHUT TIGHT, but unlocked. They turned the knob and walked in.
As for anything being broken, I have two locks on the door. Neither one is broken. They both work fine. They even claim they couldn't lock the door on the way out because it was broken.
Don't bother to tell me I haven't got a prayer against these guys. I know that. I just hope that fantasizing about all the horrible things I'd like to do to everyone who has made me feel so helpless will suffice. From the neighbors who complained about my dry cleaning [I figured out who they are by the way] to the lying ass pigs who broke in.
Happy Independence Day to you too. Mine just took a beating.