The title of this post may seem a bit over dramatic but honestly, it is exactly how I felt in this moment. I remember hiding under the sheets, laying as still as I could and hoping that they wouldn’t enter the room. I had never been in a situation where I feared for my life, but this was my reality at that moment. I like to think that after this incident my life changed forever, I made the decision to change the situation that I was in.. but I didn’t, and it ended with me in many scenarios similar to this one.

It seems like we’re getting a bit ahead of ourselves here. Let’s establish the setting, I started a new relationship in my first year of university. (19 year old me had no idea what she was getting herself into) I had known this guy for quite a few years as we worked together at the grocery store in town. He was 8 years older than me but he was charming, cute and known as the jokester at work (and clearly at 19 that is all one needs). We were never really friends but we connected over Christmas break when I was home from uni (Thanks Facebook). We quickly became attached to each other and I came to find out that he sold drugs as his main source of income (SURPRISE!). This never bothered me at the time, I didn’t do drugs, never planned on ever doing it and I felt safe around the guys.

*I also grew up in a VERY small town, everyone smoked, drank or did/ sold some type of drugs so this was not out of the norm*

After dating for a few weeks I began coming home quite regularly to see him, I went to school only 2 hours away so every weekend I would drive back to be at his place. He often had to work a shift at the grocery store but I stayed at his house to do homework and do some baking or cooking for him (he always said I was the best housewife..). He lived in a small cottage on the river so I never really had to worry about anyone bothering me but I always locked the doors after he left.

One weekend, in particular, I will NEVER forget. It was a Sunday morning, he had just left for work so approximately 9 a.m. We were up late the night before so I laid in bed after he left hoping to get a bit more sleep before starting with my day. An hour goes by and I hear a car door slam, “oh the neighbors are probably home, no biggie”. It is then followed by some footsteps down the hill towards the cottage and then the front door knob jiggles, someone is trying to get in. I was confused, I knew he was at work and no one EVER came over if he wasn’t home. His bedroom door was right across from the front door but I couldn’t see who it was because of the way the bed was positioned. There were sounds of the person fumbling with keys and the door lock so I immediately pull the covers over my head and lay completely still. Now, most people would probably get out of bed and just answer the door, but they never knocked, they just tried walking right in. This is a little town but I’m only 19 and this was my first time at someone’s house alone, so I was SCARED!

“No one can see me now!”

*In hindsight just laying still on the bed was probably the worst decision. Next time I need to hide under the bed or in the closet! Though I hope there is no next time.*

I stay as quiet as I can and then suddenly the door bursts open and someone enters his house. At this moment I entirely thought that I was going to be found and hurt in some way. All these different scenarios were running in my head but I just stayed as still as possible, I’m pretty sure I didn’t even breathe. My heart was racing and I was trying to think of what I could do to get out of there! The footsteps quickly go into the living room and then the spare room where there is some shuffling. In the spare room he has a safe where he keeps all of the cash and “inventory”. That is when it hits me, “OMG HE IS BEING ROBBED”, and I grabbed my phone and tried to text my boyfriend. I am frantically texting him trying to get him to have someone come over, of course I can’t call the cops because i’m in a house with a stupid amount of weed! Of course there is no answer to the texts. I contemplated going out there and stopping the person but I am A) naked and B) not sure the size of the person or if there are any weapons so I chose to just lay in bed and hope they don’t come in the room. A few minutes go by and I peak out of the blankets to see if they had left.

I suddenly hear the safe close, lock and the person leaves locking the door behind him. This is the part that completely confuses me, how does a robber have a key to his house?! I sit up in bed and cry a bit (ok maybe a lot!), terrified but also happy that I was still alive. I called my boyfriend over and over without an answer until I finally called the grocery store and asked for him. I balled my eyes out as I am telling him what happened and he was furious. He said he had to go back to work but he would send someone over or find out what happened.

“The robber had a key to the house.. Clever robbers”

I eventually worked up the courage to get dressed and walk around the house to see what had happened. Nothing was out of the ordinary, the safe was shut and secure and nothing was missing from what I could tell. I get a call from my boyfriend saying a buddy had stopped by to do a cash pick up and top up his inventory but didn’t realize I was over. He got in a lot of trouble for coming over without telling anyone about the dropoff and new “rules” were set into place.

After this experience I had a hard time being alone at his place, I was always paranoid that someone was going to come back, even though they never did. When spending the night I would wake up constantly thinking I heard someone and then I would look next to me and my boyfriend would be gone, “SOMEONE HURT HIM”, would be my immediate reaction and I would run into the living room to see him on the couch passed out with a joint in his hand. To say that this event gave me crippling social axiety would be an understatement (I’m working on it).

I was lucky to never have that experience happen again to me but it did take me a long time to be able to be alone at other peoples houses. You would think that I would have realized at that time that this may not have been the safest relationship for myself but we dated for a few months still and were on and off for a year after that. It wasn’t the fact that he was a drug dealer that ever bothered me, he often said to his buddies that I was the best type of girlfriend because I didn’t do drugs, so he knew I would never steal from him. That relationship dragged me into a dark place and this was only the beginning of it..

Moral of the Story: Don’t date drug dealers, or stay at their house alone.