Who Can it be knocking at my door? Go ‘way…don’t come ’round here no more…

My heart rate is just now starting to lower to a normal pace after a startling evening.

I woke up from dialysis this morning after the “End UF” alarm woke me up. As I gave my blood back, my cell phone rang. It was Dad.

“Want me to bring you breakfast?” he asked. Err, who’d say no to that?? 🙂

About 30 minutes later, my Dad came with breakfast and tea. Before he left, he said “Don’t open the door for anybody!” I asked him what he meant by that, as I don’t normally make it a habit of opening the door to strangers anyways. He reminded me of a shooting that took place about 10 mintes away from my house whereby the perpetrator was still on the loose. I assured him that I wouldn’t open the door for anyone.

I spent much of the day on my laptop, staring at the tax forms, etc and plugged them into the tax program that I’m using. My Dad came home around 4pm and told me that he was waiting for Mom to get home as they were going to go to his friend’s retirement party. My Mom came home, quickly got changed, and off they went.

As I sat in my bed and watched tv, I heard someone knocking at the door. Hmm, who could that be? I thought of my brother, who often knocks instead of using the house key that he still has. I peered out of the balcony door and noticed a man in my driveway walking towards the side door. His van was parked in the driveway. Just then, the doorbell rang. I went to the top of the stairs which has a window that overlooks the side door. I was 2 men clearly but I’m sure there were at least 3. I went back into my room and sat back down.

About a minute later, more knocking. This time, it wasn’t even knocking. It was BANGING. I’d describe it as violent knocking. Like, “I know you’re in there” knocking. My heart started to race. Who are these people and why won’t they leave?

I looked out of the closed balcony door again. This time, there was another van parked on the street in front of my house. One of the men who was at the side door was now at the trunk of the van, removing a large orange ladder. What the heck??? We are changing the placement of the side door to my house so currently there are 2 side doors. Could these people be the people who are supposed to work on the door? I wasn’t going to take that chance. If that were the case, my father would have told me…wouldn’t he?

Just then, even LOUDER banging. I quickly dialed my sister’s cell phone number. Voicemail.

I then dialed my brother’s number. He answered after only one ring. Trying to remain composed, I told him that there were men outside of the house, banging away violently at the door. He asked me if I could see who it was and I described to him what I saw. He paused. I know he was contemplating what to do since he was still at work…which was probably more than 30 minutes away.

He also asked me if I thought it might be the people working on the door. I didn’t know. Just then I walked to the top of the stairs. More banging. The banging was so loud that my brother could hear it through my cell phone to his. He told me to hang tight and he would send somebody over.

I hung up and waited. I tried my sister’s office number this time. No answer.

More doorbell ringing. More banging.

“I should call the police” I thought. Since my father was at this retirement party, he didn’t have his pager with hin. I know that if I called him, if he couldn’t physically be there himself, he’d send somebody over. A cop would be at my door in 2 minutes or less if he sent them.

Another 10 minutes or so passed. I looked out the window and saw the man putting the ladder back into the car. While all of this was happening, the house phone rang. I was too mortified to answer it. If it was them calling, they’d know somebody was home. They stood on the diveway for a few minutes more, then both vans left.

My heart was still beating. I called my brother back to let him know that the people banging on the door had left.

I checked the voicemail after I calmed down a bit. It was, in fact, the people who were supposed to work on the door. He said “Hey I came to work on the door, sorry you weren’t home. Bye”.

You know, I just don’t understand WHY, first of all, they would bang on the door with such force. It was almost as if they were trying to break the door completely down. I was scared, upset, and in tears. I would NEVER knock on someone’s door like that! If I knocked and there was no answer, and I in my own mind was positive that someone was home, then I’d call the house or the cell phone of the person I’m looking for. I wouldn’t bang on the door with such fury. It’s so disrespectful.

Ugh.

Florence: