I feel like a hostage in my own house. My neighbor is back from the hospital. I'm fairly sure she got in last night because I was awoken by quite a ruckus in the middle of the night, which made it difficult to go back to sleep. Every worst case scenario played through my head. I was hoping she wouldn't come back until I had a chance to leave. I didn't see her but feared the worst. I wanted to get out of the house today and be far far away from here, but I suppose lack of sleep and feeling petrified got me feeling quite ill. I decided to take a nap with the boys in hopes that I would feel better and less afraid once I got some decent sleep. I was awoken by the sound of children running and playing and the neigbors playing music upstairs. I heard a little girl say, "Mommy, you love me so much you won't let anything happen to me right?" My ears perked up. Maybe other neighbors had had run ins too and Eric would be safe to play outside with the witness of other neighbors. I heard her mom telling her friend, "She was mad that I pulled Jasmine inside...."
I have met Jasmine once. I was out the door on my way to the store when a little girl says hi. I considered ignoring her, but didn't want to be rude. So I said Hi and kept walking. She said, "What's your name?" I said "Charity. What's yours?" She said "Jasmine." I said "Nice to meet you," and kept walking because she was obviously still wanting to talk. Her mother called her inside and I walked off. The reason I tell this story is because as the women keep talking and I strain to listen to what is being said with my doors closed and locked, is that one of the women says "My car was towed". My heart stopped. The friend the upstairs neighbor was talking to is the one who attacked me. They loudly complain about the situation and I start to realize they haven't been talking about the woman who was hauled off - they were talking about ME. My stomach started to turn in knots again. I wanted to open the door to hear them better, but didn't want them to know I was listening.
So I here I sit, trapped in my own house because I don't dare let Eric out to play with MORE neighbors against me, and I don't dare leave in the van and let them know that I am not home. It's a gorgeous day and I'm cowering in fear. I hate that. I hate feeling this way. I wasn't physically hurt when i was shoved down, but my sense of safety and security was stolen from me that day. I have plans to take the boys and go live with my parents until she is gone. I can't do this anymore and my boys need the freedom to play. Poor Eric just doesn't understand why he can't play outside.
I know I'm being TOTALLY absurd, but just had to get that off my chest. Thanks for listening!