My First Break-In

My First Break In

My next-door neighbor’s son and I were friends. I hung out over at their house from time to time. His parents didn’t like me, but they were decent people. This is why remembering this shit is so painful. I look back at all of the bad decisions I made and who I affected by my actions. It is messed up, but trust me, the end of this life story makes it all worth it… hang in there with me, okay?

I knew my neighbors were going on vacation. The day before they left, I hung out with Ryan. I knew I was making the wrong move. Who the fuck breaks into their friend’s house? I still went through with it despite my internal grumblings. I went into the kitchen and unlocked the window. I wasn’t sure if they would check all of the doors and windows before they left, but I tried my hand. It paid off.

The next day, my “father” and I got into it. He told me to get the fuck out of the house (only so he could cheat on my mom who had gone out of town for a week). So, I did. I went straight next door and scoped out the house to make sure no one was walking around. I did it. I broke in through the unlocked window. I slid through the window and was in. I had gloves on…mittens really. I didn’t want to leave fingerprints, so I found a pair of mittens in the house earlier and put them on. Now what?

Here is a lesson to all homeowners, lock your shit. Lock every door, window, and everything else you can. I don’t care if you are just going to the store. You never know. Burglary 101. Did you know that over 30% of all homeowners do NOT lock their doors? I thought it would be higher honestly. Where was I? Oh, yeah…

I went straight to the bedroom. I had a pillowcase with me to grab the loot and grab I did. I was only in the house for maybe 10 minutes (scared to death). Jewelry, cash, and other assorted items were my take. I closed the window I came through and locked the window. I went out through the garage door, and I was home free.

I stashed the loot in our garage in a safe spot, and I laid low. I climbed through my bedroom window and thought that was the end of it. I honestly thought there would be more to it. I was scared to death of getting caught, but I also felt bad. I had just taken a big step in my criminal career. I was big time now (so I thought). This was back in the 80s, so a few hundred bucks was a big deal back then.

I hit the streets the next couple of days and pawned off some of the jewelry to some shady characters. Want a ring? Sure, no problem! Give me 20 bucks and it’s yours. I got rid of most of the ill-gotten gain, except I made one big mistake. I kept one of the gold chains. See, back in those days, it was cool to wear shit like that. Everyone thought you were someone. What a joke. Can you imagine a preppy ass kid walking around selling jewelry?

During school, an announcement was mad over the loudspeaker. I was called down to the principal’s office. I didn’t know what was going on, but when I saw the cops there, I had a pretty good idea. Nonchalantly, I walked up to the cops and asked what was up? Well, I got slammed like a Mountain Dew and placed in cuffs. Of course, I was screaming out like most guilty people. “I’m innocent!” Yeah, right.

My PO (probation officer) had me in a room and gave me the riot act. I swore on everything I didn’t do anything. He said, “Oh yeah? Where did you get that necklace from?” Busted. I didn’t say a word, but I didn’t have to. A teenager wearing an expensive necklace with his shirt exposed was not the brightest of ideas. I didn’t say a word and was thrown in juvie hall.

I thought prison (I am getting to that in the near future) was fucked up. Man, juvenile hall took the cake. I was thrown in a cell which was no bigger than a small ass shed, with a bunk and a sink. For the first time in a long time, I cried. What the hell was I doing? Did I really think I was going to get away with it? I honestly felt bad for what I did. I felt bad for my neighbors and, for some odd reason, I gave a fuck what my parents thought. I didn’t know what the future held with this case pending, but man, I was going to change. I had the right intentions and honestly, I was just a messed-up kid with no direction, focus, or clear path.

A week later, my grandfather passed. I was stuck in that little cell. I was given the news by one of the juvenile detention center counselors. I can barely even type at this moment. Too many memories are coming back. The last thing my grandpa remembered me by was I was locked up for theft. The regret still haunts me to this day. I wish that was the turning moment in my life. I wish I would have stopped right then and there, but I didn’t. Sometimes, when you tell your story, you have to get through the pain to let it out and to let go. This is part of my journey. This is why I want this out. I have redeemed my life in many ways over the years, and I am proud of what I have accomplished. I have helped many through their own hardships, but to get rid of my own demons, I have to confront the past. More to come. Stay tuned.