Confused...

I am confused... Quite confused...

As I have written here at the end of last week, I have my boss my 4 weeks (I believe it's 4 weeks) notice. I told him I was offered a new job and after much thinking and discussing it with friends and loved ones I accepted it. He was quite stunned, not that he showed it... But he only told me that he'd think about it and would come back to me about it. Since I told him that I wanted to quit just after noon, it was really a long wait when he only told me around 16:45 that he "rather not" have me quit and we'd talk about it on Monday. I was so stunned because I told him I was quitting and I accepted a new job already.

So WHY a need to think about it? Will he make me an "offer I can't refuse" now that I have told him I want out...? It's a bit too late for that I would think. So many things that have happened that counted up to me wanting to find another job. I never really felt appreciated there. I have been working till 9 days before I was scheduled to get my new hip. Yeah I worked shorter days, but I was there the best I could manage and doing my job. I was taking quite heavy medication and I was told that in that time I did not work hard enough... That I was too slow and all. And I also was told that I was a big cost to the company. Further more other (newer) collegues were offered better positions and some educational things... All things I longd for, told him that I wanted more and had the feeling I could mean more to the company. But it was always noted and never dealt with.

And now I got through 2 interviews and a test and passed them almost with glory and I accepted the job... And now he wants time to think. I guess in one way I would feel a bit honored if he offered me something in tomorrow's talk. But also offended that during the 8 years and 2 months, he dd not do anything and it could only happen because I want a new job.

So I am confused, sad and angry at the same time.
WHY am I bing told my work ain't good/fast enough and I cost too much?
WHY didn't I ever receive a promotion or something educational, which others may receive?
WHY can't he just accept that the way things are going now, I am not happy there anymore?

And last of all:
Why am I feeling almost guilty when all I am doing is thinking of my future and my best interest?

I have been sleeping very little ever since I knew they had offered me the position. I have nice co-workers, some very dear customers who surely mean a lot to me... But I don't feel appreciated and just taken for granted at times by my boss and his brother just hates me. So if I am that slow, expensive and not important enough to be offered an sort of promotion in all those years...WHY say that he'd rather not have me quitting and needing time to think about it??? Why not tell me when I have my last working day and how we will work out my standing vacation time and days and all???

*sighs*

So instead of having one stupid day, last Friday, in which I told him and then we could deal with it all...I have to wait till tomorrow and hopefully he will have it all sorted out by then.
Will write my notice tomorrow evening and hand it over to him on Tuesday. After many tears and talks and doubts I have made up my mind. I want that new job.. Not the old one with slight improvements after such a long time... IF he had offered ANYTHING previous to me working on getting a new job, I might not have gone for it. But now... It's too late...

And I will try to get some sleep... Hopefully... And hopefully tomorrow everything will be sorted out... In a nice and decent way, I also hope...

*sighs*

Sleep well my dear readers!

PS. Due to all the stress of the stuff mentioned above I had no time or energy to work on my story... Hopefully I'll be able to work on it asap.

Awake way too early…

Hello everyone,

this is an early morning blogpost. Normally, my alarm allows me to sleep till 6:20 am. But I have been awake a big part of the night and when my tummy needed a toilet brake around 5:50, I decided to get up. I am feeling quite nervous, anxious and maybe a bit scared. I know it is a normal conversation to have and it’s a risk you carry when having a company, that people may one day quit. but I am not sure if he saw this coming and in a way, I’m afraid I will hurt his feelings. I think that is what my feelings are truly about and why I am sleeping to lousy. I am afraid to disappoint my boss. Getting the feeling that I am letting him down. While it’s actually him that let me down by giving others the means of exploring themselves by giving them more responsibilities. By not allowing me some more access and involvement in daily things that are happening in the store.

So see, it wasn’t all totally useless that I have been laying awake for such a long time. I finally figured myself and my feelings out. I am scared that I will disappoint him instead of being able to be happy for myself for starting a new and more responsible job soon. Maybe I’m a bit scared too that the new job might be too much to handle for me. But I also know that I’ve got a lot of potential that isn’t being “taken advantage of” at my current position.

It’s just such a double feeling, as we say in the Netherlands. It’s like I have this big, old fashioned two-way scale in front of me and even though I have made my decision about taking the new job, I am still measuring all the odds and evens. I guess that is my insecure part deep inside of me, that’s taking over.

Ah well, I will go get dressed and feed the dogs. And be nervous… I keep telling myself that it’ll be OK. But I guess I won’t be able to believe that for myself until the day is over…

*sighs*

Cynni

To think that you think that… Chapter 3

the story continues… please feel free to comment, pa-leeze comment!!!
looking forward to your impressions and all…

THREE

Sandra woke up around 6 am. She slept only a few hours and it had not been very restful. But she saw it differently. She rushed to the toilet first, bat in hand, and then she rushed over to her laptop. She switched it on, waited for the software to load and typed in her password. She thought she heard some noise from her bedroom. So she grabbed the bat again and slowly walked towards the bedroom door. When she silently opened it, she thought she was losing her mind!
The window was open again, just slightly ajar, but open!
She could have sworn that she had locked and bolted it. How could anyone be able to open it up again without her noticing? How was this possible? And there it was again. That one answer that did not seem to be a real answer at all.

Magic? Magic!? There’s no such thing as magic… Is there? Is there!?

That might be the only thing that could start to explain whatever she thought she saw the previous night. And how anyone would have been able to open three locks without leaving a scratch. And also, how her window could have been opened without her noticing. She had been thinking about this all a lot during the night and she had not been able to make up any answer. There simply seemed to be no answer, not a believable one for all that counts, to the answers of how, who, why and what. What was going on here? Were the things she thought she saw and the things happening at her house connected in any way?

The thoughts came so fast that she rushed herself towards her laptop and started typing again. First, she opened a new document. To keep thoughts of yesterday and last night separated from the thoughts of this morning. Later she could cross refer them to see if some thoughts had come up more often than others. That way, she knew they had to be the most important ones that needed to be answered before they made her head go POP!

Instead of writing down more thoughts, she opened her Firefox web browser and went to the Google search site. Before proceeding any further, Sandra checked her firewall and LAN protection settings. She did not want anyone to be able to hack her and see what she was about to Google. It sounded a bit far stretched and ridiculous, even for Sandra herself, to be checking the settings. She had done so quite often, but she got the feeling, now more than ever, that someone or maybe something, was watching her. And the thing she was about to Google was also very un-Sandra. So she checked and double checked it before typing in her desired search words. But while she was rechecking, she also thought that it would not be worth a thing. She always checked her locks, also often double checked it, and they seemed to open on their own account as well when she wasn’t looking.

Still, she was going to Google it and if not now, she would never come around to do it. She typed “magic lock opening” and pressed the search button.

She found several sites that were trying to sell her special locks. Even a site where she could order lock picks in various special “key” sets. But nothing that had anything to do with real magic. As far as magic could be seen as real to anyone.

There had to be someone out there who believed enough in the magical forces that would be able to help her. To maybe answer a few questions from her impeccable long and almost unbelievable list.

So she turned back to the Google search engine for yet another search. But then she got a silly idea in her head. She switched to the Yellow Pages website and decided to try her luck there. She finally found a website that offered her some more information. Without thinking, she picked up her phone and started dialing the number that was blinking on her screen. On the third ring there came an answer. She made an appointment for the next day, Sunday afternoon. She did not want to meet the person in her apartment, so they agreed they would meet up at a local Starbucks restaurant.

After setting the date and time of the appointment in her cell phone, she went back to her thoughts file. It felt like it was only growing with many questions that would never be answered. How she hated that! She was desperate for some answers. Just a few to begin with. It would be a start. The start of something good or bad, she wasn’t quite sure about that yet. But nevertheless, it was a start of something…

She sat staring at her laptop screen for a few minutes, not even noticing that her thoughts wandered off to places she’d never been within her imagination. Normally Sandra was very much in touch with her thoughts. She was always carrying around her cell phone. Not to keep in touch with all the close friends she did not have. But this way, she always had a device with her to write down all the thoughts and sometimes ideas that would pop into her mind. And because she always could digitally write down everything she wanted, everything that had come to mind, she knew better than anyone what her usual train of thoughts was. And the last 24 hours, it really had been very off. It was like she was not herself anymore.

Normally she would at least find a couple of believable and acceptable answers to some of the questions on her display or screen. But now, she was lost at sea, trying to find a small drop of water. Looking for a needle in a haystack would be easier than finding any answers to the questions she had written down since her walk home last night. Sandra was really hoping that her appointment on Sunday would make her wiser. She would be happy if she could go home after it with one answer on her questions. She would be extremely happy with two answers. And three answers or more would blow her mind! But she did not want to get ahead of things. And with that thought, she came back to what she was doing before she started to stare at her screen.

She typed up some more things, some things she wanted to ask her appointment the next day and some more thoughts, before she encrypted the file and shut down her laptop. She did not want to go out, but inside she wasn’t sure she felt safe there either. The locks were opened after she closed them, again and again. And she still wasn’t sure if she was being followed the previous night or not. But she gathered all her strength and courage and got ready to leave the apartment. She had to get some groceries, whether she liked to get them or not. She was running out of food and drinks, and she did not want to dine out again before she found out more about what was happening to her. While Sandra was getting her groceries bag and her purse, she was doubting of locking her front door and windows would have any use. But since she had this neurotic habit, she had to do it. She could not leave the apartment knowing that the doors and windows weren’t locked. She knew there was someone, or rather something¸ that was able to open up anything anywhere if he, she or it pleased. But still, seeing not everyone was capable of doing such a thing, so it did feel safer to hold on to her habit of locking it all up.

After checking the locks once, twice and again she was sure she could leave the apartment safely to do her shopping. She almost wanted to bring along her baseball bat but she figured that was not going to be allowed when visiting stores. They would rather think that she was about to rob them instead of thinking it served as protection only. Protection against what? That, she did not know. Or know yet, she secretly hoped.

Since she did not own a car, it was too expensive for the use it would have and she preferred to do everything she could on foot. She loved to walk. Gave her the time she could use to clear her mind, or try to in a way, and it also gave her a daily dose of fresh air. As fresh as air could be in the city she lived in. But her work was close enough to work, as were the stores she used on a frequent base. She did own a bike, which was stalled in the basement of her apartment. She used it maybe once or twice a month. She also liked to ride it, seeing it gave her the exercise and fresh air which she loved. But driving a bike was a bit more dangerous than walking on the high curbs. Many drivers thought they were competing in the Indiana 500 when they would hurry to whatever place they had as destination. She almost got hit by a car the last time she was on the road. Her bike got hurt, she did not, luckily. The car hit her front wheel. Not hard, but hard enough for the wheel to have a huge dent and Sandra’s temper to raise. Fortunately, the driver was not a rude businessman with a huge hurry but a nice man who paid for a new wheel and even offered to ride her home. Since she was close to home, she declined the offer, gladly took the money and walked home afterwards.

It was three blocks to her local Delhaize store. She had a long list of stuff she needed to buy. Of course, this list was saved on her cell phone. She kept checking if anyone was following her but she felt like that was not the case. She was just glad that she did not have to go past the place where she saw it happen last night. Yes, yes, or she thought she had seen something happen. That idea and thought was still nagging in her mind.

She felt almost 100% sure that she wasn’t followed when she entered the store. She got a shopping kart and grabbed her cell phone. When she flipped it open, she saw that she had an incoming file being transferred in through her Bluetooth connection. That was weird! She didn’t have that connection open and if and when she used it, she always used an eight numbered code to protect the file transfer. She saw that the senders phone, or maybe PC, had no ID. No name, no number, nothing that could tell her who the mysterious sender was. She decided to let the transfer finish and she would check the file that was transferred when she got home again. That way she could check the file for any virus or Trojan horse or any other hacking and cracking device that could be embedded in the file she just received. When her phone told her the file was well received, she saw that the connection was disconnected and her Bluetooth immediately switched itself off. Sandra was now in doubt whether to switch of the phone or leave it on. She left it on, not giving the new file a chance to do anything weird with her phone while was booting. But she did put it away and just got her groceries from the top of her mind. Not using the applications was the safest options she could think of.

She believed the kart was full enough when she proceeded to check out. While she was waiting in the line, someone she knew came walking up to her. Or, as it turned out to be, walked up to stand behind her in line. The lady did not notice she was standing behind Sandra until Sandra had enough courage to turn around and say hello.

“Hello Lilly, how are you doing?”. Yes, it was Lilly from work, the woman she thought she might have feelings for. Lilly looked up, surprised at first, before responding to Sandra. “I’m doing quite OK Sandra. I did not know you did your shopping here.” “I’ve been coming here for almost two years, it’s only a three block’s walk from my apartment.” Lilly gave Sandra a puzzled look. “We’ve been working together for almost that same amount of time and you never told me you live so close to me?”

Sandra felt a blush coming up and couldn’t think of a fast answer. Not one she felt comfortable with anyway. But before she could respond, Lilly interrupted her thoughts.

“The line is moving Sandra. You wouldn’t want to stall it, would you?” Lilly giggled when she said that, and Sandra could feel her temperature rise. She moved forward, just three people in front of her now. She longed for some time with Lilly. It was nice to have someone to talk with and to get her mind of the frequent thoughts she’d been having. Maybe she could invite Lilly for a cup of tea at her place. Or would that be too much and too fast? What the heck! After all the strange things that had been happening she felt she deserved a change. A good change. So when the line moved up once again, Sandra turned around to invite Lilly. But Lilly had gone. She wasn’t standing behind Sandra anymore.

Sandra felt sad that she did not notice Lilly going away. And that she didn’t get the chance to invite her over. She moved up again, paid for her grocery items and she was still busy packing them into her bag when she heard a familiar voice.

Lilly stood beside her. “Sorry that I left like I did. I saw a shorter line and it was a good decision to change. But I should have told you before setting off.” “Oh it’s OK, I was just wondering where you were when I turned around. But, what I wanted to ask you, are you busy this afternoon?” Lilly looked like she was thinking it over before she answered. “Well, besides from getting my groceries home safely, I was planning on sitting on the couch with a good book. Why, got any better plans?” Sandra laughed nervously before finally getting to her point. “Well, if you are interested, I wanted to ask you over to my place for a nice cup of tea. It would be nice to get to know you a bit better.”

There, she had said it. Straight out and forward. Message delivered.

Lilly welcomed the invite. She asked for Sandra’s address, so she could go home first, put away her groceries and fresh up before visiting Sandra. On her way home, Sandra felt like she was flying instead of walking. All the troubles that she had seemed to fade away. Of course, they were still alive and kicking as well. But now, it didn’t seem so bad. Before the evening would be over, the troubles would be back. OK, they had never left but just seemed less present. Sandra didn’t care! Lilly was coming over…

to be continued…

The hardest thing...

Hello everyone,

tomorrow will be the day when I have to go and talk to my boss. I have to tell him that I will be leaving his company after working there for 8 years ans 2 months. I've been offered a new job at another supermarket chain and I have accepted. I have talked a lot about it with friends and family and I do like the place I am working now. But it will get me no where. I am doing the same things I have been doing for over 6 years now and I think I can accomplish just a bit more than that.
On several occasions I have informed my boss about it. But nothing has been done with it.

I love to work with my co-workers. We have fun and we know we can count on each other. I have many good contacts with several customers and I will really, really miss that all. I will miss catching up with everyone, watching kids grow up and doing what I know I can. But I would like to see myself doing just a wee bit more than that when I look at myself in something like 10 years or so. That is why I took the offer. With this supermarket chain I can get more opportunities to grow and develop myself, sort to speak.

But it still freaks me out knowing I have to deliver my boss this news tomorrow. I feel like I am going to do something really, really bad. But all I am doing is choosing for myself and to start a new career. I know I am an @$$ complaining that I got offered a more advanced job... But I just wish I had gotten this chance at my present company. So I would not have to say goodbye to all of my co-workers and friends. It truly makes me sad to think about having to miss them all... And it freaks me out knowing I will be the newby at my new job. Doing something I have never done before and really hoping I will be able to do it all. Though it really feels good knowing that people think me capable of stuff that I have never been allowed to do before at my present job...

So all in all, it is hard in many ways. I hope my boss will understand and be nice/reasonable/good about it. I have not been able to sleep OK in the last week, laying awake thinking about all the scenarios and everything that can go wrong. I even picture me crying...

Ah well... Please everyone, keep your fingers crossed for me tomorrow... I will be back about this topic for sure...

Nervous huggies,
Cynni xx

Another old poem

Writing your life

Writing is, as writing goes
Just one of many artistic flows
One that almost everyone knows

It isn’t easy, it never is
To give your words some extra bliss
But a feeling is not hard to miss

Everyone feels, I am sure
Painful feelings search for a cure
It’s love we can always endure

Memories lead you, to many ways
You write a journal about your days
It’s nice to find a way through this maze

Words misguide, once in a while
Some chosen poorly, some make you smile
Words always exist even in denial

That makes it hard, writing and all
It leads to high ways or a fall
No matter what, I stand tall

Follow the words, your heart gives in
Dare to cry it isn't a sin
Be brave and just begin…

Following the words that will write your story in the end.

©ynni, November 28th 2008

To think that you think that…

Cynni, the storyteller… continues!

If you liked my first chapter, please read this blog. It contains chapter number:

TWO

She always was a loner. For twenty-five years she’d always had so manage on her own. Her mum did the best she could, but she has died when her daughter was just five years old. The father tried to take care of his daughter, but in his own way. He was too bummed after his wife died to to anything besides getting drunk. He lost his wife and he felt like he lost his life instead. That he still had a daughter did not mean that much to him. After almost a year of drinking heavily he found out that life had to go on. But his way of going on, was checking himself out. He bought a shotgun and ended his life in a brutal way.

His daughter had been beaten a lot, every time he felt like it, and she did her best to cover up all the bruises. At age six, she was almost independent. She tried to take care of her dad the best she could, the best any five going on six year old could do. She never really had the time to grieve for her mother and she did not know how to do so. There were no other relatives that she could turn to. And at school the teachers knew that her dad was a drunk, but because she still got good grades, no one ever did anything to help her with her home situation. Until they got a call, informing the head principal that her dad has taken his own life, with her present in the room.

Sandra was taken in by a not too distant relative who cared enough for the troubled child to take her in. It was a great surprise to her, since she could not remember ever meeting this woman. She told Sandra that she was the widow of her dad’s brother. Maybe that was the reason why she felt just a little connection between her and the young girl. They both had lost someone they loved and cared about. Sandra would always call her auntie, never mum. Her aunt did not mind it and did her best to give Sandra some love and a lot of care. But due to all the distress that Sandra had experienced throughout her short time on earth, it was hard to connect with the little girl. She tried, they even followed some therapy sessions. These sessions helped a bit, but Sandra would never be truly able to trust anyone.

At the age of nineteen, Sandra also lost her aunt. She was driving home after work and got hit by a drunk truck driver. She died on the way to the hospital. Sandra was quite pleased when she heard that the truck driver would spend some years in jail, but it would and could not soften the grieve she was experiencing. Nineteen years young and already three people she had known and loved died in gruesome ways.

Sandra quit university, she could not concentrate anymore and at the time, it wasn’t interesting to her anymore as well. She found a job, got better at it and she rented an apartment. She was finally getting her life back, or her new life was finally shaping up. Anyway you wanted to see it, things were improving. She built up some trust in some of her co-workers and she got better at what she did. At the age of twenty-three she got a good promotion and was able to buy the apartment she was still living in.
She still did not have many friends, just one or two she thought she could trust enough to call it a friend. But they weren’t close enough for Sandra to talk with them about what she had seen. Or thought she had seen.

Romantic relationships were also very unknown to her. She thought that she did have a crush on someone, maybe she would even call it more if she dared herself to do so, but she could not really place the feelings she had. She loved to be around her, to hear her talk, to see her walk, just to be close to her. But she wasn’t really sure if it was love or a craving for a close friendship. And she also was very unsure about having feelings for a woman. Was she really gay or maybe bi-sexual? There have been one or two men that she thought she had feelings for in the past. But since her feelings were never answered and she never dared to take any risk by making contact with that person herself, she would never know what the feelings meant exactly.

Though all in all, Sandra wasn’t ugly. She had, what most people call, a nice figure and a lovely smile. She had, also what most people call, an average height and weight, so really she wasn’t bad on the eye. But because she wasn’t able to trust people, she was also very shy and withholding. One day, she promised herself, she would find out what having a relationship, friendly or even romantic, meant. But at the age of twenty-five, many days had passed since she made that promise.

At work there was that girl, or young woman rather, that she liked a whole lot. Even though the liking was only based on a daily hello and goodbye. That was all Sandra managed to say without going into a shy stutter or her face turning into a tomato colored feature. Maybe, after all that had happened the previous evening and night, she would step up to Lilly, that was her co-workers name, after the weekend. Seeing it now was Friday going on Saturday, she had a whole weekend to figure out what her next step might be. Maybe it would work out. But what was the definition of those works “work out”? So many questions that needed solid answers. So many things to make a young woman so insecure about herself.

All things considered, Sandra never had an easy life. Dealing with her mother’s death at a young age was already hard enough for her. She never really knew what had happened to cause her mother to die. This was also a question that she had asked both her father and her aunt but never got an honest answer to. She wanted to find out so badly, but also grew weary just thinking of what the answer might be, if she ever found it.
And then the abuse, neglect and seeing her father pop the gun against his head. She was in that room and saw it all. It was still haunting her during the nights. As said before, she did not believe in nightmares. But to others, they would really call those dreams freaking bad nightmares for sure. She never understood why her father saw no other way to live on and only the ugly way out. That was also a reason why it was so hard to find out what the reason could be of her mother’s death. For some years she truly believed her dad had something to do with it. Why else would her aunt, teachers and counselor never honestly answer that one simple question: “What caused my mother’s death?'”
Even though she loved her aunt a lot and really was grateful that she took her in after her father committed that “unnecessary” suicide, she had always missed her real mother and of course her father. Her aunt did show that she loved Sandra and also cared about her. But she could not help but feel that there was a great distance between the two of them. Sandra had known that this was partially her own fault, closing herself off to the rest of the world. Not being able to put trust in their relationship for such a long time. And again, she lost someone she cared about in a gruesome way.
No, Sandra never had it easy when you know all this.

But then, Sandra never told many people about her background. She felt ashamed to tell people that she was an orphan and that the closest thing she had to a parent had also died. Why she felt like this, I guess no one could understand. When you come to think about it, knowing this about Sandra makes it a lot easier to understand her. To appreciate her and to see who she really is. But no, Sandra wanted nothing like that. She felt like people only wanted to be friendly to her because they felt sorry for her. No, if people wanted to be friendly, it had to be because they cared for her and not her situation.

Sandra was a complicated young lady. But she had potential to grow. If only she dared to believe in herself.

TO BE CONTINUED…

This was the second chapter of "To think that you think that...". Please don't hesitate to point me to any errors you find. Suggestions and ideas are also welcome. Just place a comment if you like and be sure that I will read it!

TTFN, Cynni xx

Cynni, the storyteller…

Every once in a while, I get the urge to just sit down and type. To write a story or poem. Or to get rid of some strange thoughts that just don’t seem willingly to leave my mind anything else but preoccupied. To write out some thoughts, feelings, things that bug or annoy me, things that I can’t seem to comprehend without writing them down. And well, at times I tend to write a story that also combines some thoughts or just what comes up in that silly head of mine. Why I am telling you this all? Because I just feel like writing something, it is my blog of course… But this is something that I normally don’t blog about. Normally I write more about how my day was, what I did and am planning to do. That kind of stuff. Not the stuff you may be reading, if you read on, in a few minutes. The thing is that I really do not know what I will be able to publish in the end. I just well, go with the flow as some would call it. So grab a cup of tea, coffee or anything else you prefer, sit back and read on. If you’re still interested. Or maybe I should write: read on, if you dare :)

To think that you think that...

ONE

It was a cold summer night. The air was so chilly, one would think it was half past autumn. She was walking so fast that it felt like the cold wind was making cuts across her cheeks. Maybe it was only the cold, maybe it got worse due to the tears running down from her eyes. She couldn’t really care, all she wanted to do was get home. Get away from what she saw, or what she thought she saw, what she believed she saw or maybe what she wanted to see. Wanted might have been the wrong word to use, but her mind was running almost faster than her legs and it all was very unreal. How could it be real? How could it be?
She almost was home when she heard footsteps behind her. Was someone following her? No it couldn’t be. She would have heard those footsteps earlier. Was it just a coincidence? After tonight, she would probably never believe in anything being a coincidence ever again. So that would have to be a second “No” to her own questions. But there were so many questions that were in search for answers. Though she wasn’t sure she’d be able to answer all those questions herself. While thinking of someone who’d be able to help her, she almost forgot those footsteps that she heard just before. When she got her focus back on it, the sound was gone. So maybe it was a coincidence after all. Maybe she was imagining stuff now. Though seeing what she saw this evening, even if she just thought seeing it, could and would drive anyone crazy. Or so she thought while finally reaching her flat building. She looked around her shoulders just one more time, to be absolutely sure that no one was following her, and she quickly unlocked the main front door. She made sure the door was locked again before she followed the stairs to her floor.
There were four floors in her building, she was on the top one. She believed it would be safer. Why, she never really was sure about that. She thought it would make burglars think twice before trying to empty her apartment. But at other times, when she was reading some news bulletin on a website about people getting killed in their own homes during fires, she wondered what she was more afraid of. Burning to death or being robbed. She’d like to think a lot. Think things over and over until she was satisfied. Or till she thought she was satisfied. She could be very sure about herself and convince just about anyone that she was in fact sure, but still be extremely in doubts in her mind.

But when she finally reached her flat, she saw the door was ajar. She had 3 locks on it, so someone really had done a swell job cracking all of those. But shouldn’t her neighbors have heard anything while that person, or maybe persons, was working that hard on opening her door? They were complaining often enough when she was listening to her music or watching a movie with the surround system on. So how could anyone miss the noise this must have made? Should she call the police or just move slowly towards her door and see what was going on? Thoughts were still racing through her mind of what had happened what seemed like a nano second ago. And now she had to work this out as well. Her mind was making over hours this way and she could not bill them to anyone but herself.
She decided to slowly move towards the entrance. She examined the locks to finally notice that they didn’t have a scratch on them. They were all open without her being able to find any marks on them. No sign of forced entry as they would call it in any cop show you’d see on TV. She stayed in the doorway while she called out. Once, twice, three times in total. If someone was inside, he or she was extremely good at keeping still.
Then she finally decided that she did not forget to lock the door, let along to forget all three of the locks, so she flipped out her cell phone from her pocket and started typing in the central alarm number. She told the operator what her situation was and they’d dispatched one patrol unit to come and check it out. She was told to stay where she was until the policemen were at the scene. While she waited, she felt like she was really going crazy. Those thoughts, all those ideas that kept screaming for any attention, all those questions that wanted to be answered asap.
Since she still had her phone in her hand, she decided to use it wisely once more. She opened up the QWERTY keypad and initiated the Word Mobile® software. She typed slowly, trying to give all her thoughts the best description so she’d be able to sort them out at a later time. And even though she rethought about each and every letter she typed, deep within her she wanted to race her fingers over that damn keyboard. Even if it helped just a little bit to comprehend it all, or just a teeny weenie winey bit, she’d be eternally grateful. Because there was just so much that she could take in one night. And that much was already achieved on the way home. This was getting too much, even for her, to handle within a few hours. It would be too much for anyone, she thought, though this was not one of the thoughts she noted down on her phone.

She was so busy arranging her thoughts that she did not even hear the cops climbing up the stairs towards her apartment. There were two of them and they gave her quite a startle. Not because the looked freaky or anything but more because of her preoccupation with her thoughts and cell phone.
“Excuse me, miss. We got a call that your apartment was burglarized.” She quickly saved the document before putting away her phone. Then she looked at the two cops, a male and female one, before answering them. “Good evening. Could you please show me some ID’s first before we proceed?”
The cops grabbed their wallets and flashed out their Metro Police identifications and nodded politely while doing so. After she had checked them, she knew that the female was called Janie Peterson and the male Jack Jones. For some reason she thought it important to remember their names. While she was mentally making a note of those names, making sure she’d remember them when they left so she could write them down, the male cop was talking to her.
”Miss? Could you please answer our previous question now? You reported a burglary?” She shook her head, also to clear some her thoughts, and then slowly answered the question. “No I only called because I have three locks on my door, which I am sure I locked before leaving. When I came home, the door was ajar without any scratch on the locks or doorframe. So I called it in before proceeding. I did not want to disturb anyone or maybe destroy any evidence if there is any inside of the house.” “Why would you think there’s any evidence, miss?” “Well, if someone went through all the trouble of opening three locks as quiet and clean as possible, I would not think it was just for the fun of it. Why go to the trouble if you don’t want to get inside?” The cops made some notes and exchanged some looks before putting on some gloves.
”Ha!”, she thought. If the cops were using gloves, they too think something could be wrong.Why else go to the trouble of putting on those latex gloves if you think nothing’s wrong? All the thoughts she just got rid of by writing them down were made complete again with all the new thoughts that came running into her mind while she was talking with those two cops. And in between it all, she kept repeating: Jack Jones and Janie Peterson, Jack Jones and Janie Peterson…

Mister Jones grabbed out his flashlight and Miss Peterson followed her partners lead. He slowly pushed the door open, while announcing himself to anyone that might be inside. With his flashlight he scanned the room. When he thought it was safe, he searched for the light switch which was near the entrance. The cops were still outside, scanning the room again now the lights were on. Jones took a small step inside while Peterson started to screen the locks and doorframe. Jones and Peterson made some notes without saying anything. This was quite confusing seeing she was wondering so much what was really going on. Was she allowed to follow inside or should she remain in the doorway?
At that moment, Jones turned around and came back to her. “If you could please follow me, miss. To see is anything is missing or put back in a wrong way.” Peterson signed for her partner to come closer to the locks. “Miss, are you sure that you locked the door?” “I just told you that I an very sure that I did indeed lock it, all three of them.” What was wrong with these people? Had they not been listening to her the first time?
“Sorry to ask you again miss, but it seems that these locks were unlocked when the door was opened. There is really no sign of forced entree, one way or another.” She started to get quite annoyed, because the way that Peterson told her this, the tone almost suggested she was talking to a freaking 4-year old. Not to an adult who certainly and surely knows how to lock a door. “Miss Peterson, I am absolutely sure that I did lock all three of the locks before leaving. I always check and double check, because I am far too attached to my possessions to leave them behind an unlocked door. Not because they are extremely valuable money’s worth, but they are valuable to me personally.”
“First of all, it’s Mrs. Peterson to be exactly.” The way she had said that, there had to be a second of all. Peterson exchanged a concerned look with her partner before proceeding. But instead of Peterson continuing it, it was Jones who came up with the second of all.
”Second of all, there seems to be nothing wrong with your apartment. Besides from being it one of the neatest crime scenes I’ve ever seen. That is, if it would be a crime scene. I am sorry to say miss, but it seems there is nothing wrong here. We will make a note of it all, but there is nothing more we can do here.”
She looked at the cops, thinking a whole lot of things, some not too nice, and then nodded in agreement. She did not agree though, but she just felt there was no way to make anything work between her and the two of them. So she thanked them, even though they did not really do anything to help, it did seem the polite thing to do. They nodded and wished her a pleasant night and went off.

She went inside and bolted the door from there. There were many more thoughts that needed to be sorted out. And quickly before her head would explode. It felt like it was all filled up with C4 explosives, ready to press the button that would make it go “KABOOM!”.
She turned on her laptop and transferred her Word document from her cell phone to the laptop using a Bluetooth connection. She had connected them using a secure code, so no one would be able to hack into it. She always had been cautious about many things. That’s how she was sure that she did not forget to lock the door.

She had many quirky habits that some would even describe as neurotic. As a kid, she felt so insecure about herself. She was always the laugh of the class, the joke of the day and the one who was being singled out. All those things made her so insecure about everything about her that she got some habits she could feel secure about. But there was always the nagging in the back of her head: her consciousness telling her to be careful. Be careful or someone might get to you. Might be able to touch you in a way that would make you feel uncomfortable. Maybe even hurt you. So always be cautious about many things, almost everything, if possible.
It was also the reason why she did not have many friends. She felt like she wasn’t made out of the right material to be able to form a equivalent friendship. And it was very hard for her to be able to trust someone, anyone. She had been pestered all her childhood life and that surely had left it’s marks and scars.

When she transferred the file, she opened it on her laptop. But she still did not feel safe within her own place. That cop Jones only looked around the living room. Which seemed strange, because in all the police shows she’d been watching on TV, they always check the entire apartment. Not a glance around the living room. But also a look inside the bathroom, bedroom, kitchen and all other rooms that a house might have. It felt unnatural for a cop to leave a scene so quickly, for nor being thoroughly in their research. It also felt like they did not want to be there, like they felt awkward for even having to set foot in her place.
Before she felt secure enough to continue on her “thoughts file”, she wanted to check our her place by herself first. She grabbed a baseball bat. She had bought it because living alone for a woman in a big city can feel threatening at times. Especially when you are insecure about yourself to begin with. She kicked off her shoes under her laptop table before continuing her research. This way she could walk almost soundless around her apartment. She had it all carpeted so she just thought it best to continue bare footed.
She slowly walked towards her bedroom. She felt cold air when she slowly opened the door. Since she always locked the windows before leaving the house, it was strange to feel cold are rushing towards her. Her heart skipped a beat and the adrenaline rushed like a madman through her body. She quickly used the light switch and saw that the window was, like her front door, left ajar. So someone must have been in there and left through her bedroom window! Or someone wanted her to think that.
She felt like she should call the police again, but she also felt like it would be of no use, no use at all. They did not take her seriously the first time, so why should they if she called them in again? No, she had to figure this out by herself. She went inside the room, only to see that nothing was missing, misplaced or anything at all. It all was there just as she left it, besides from the window. She thought of fingerprints and how she would be able to check them. But what good would it do? The person, or maybe persons, did such a good job on opening three locks without any scratches. They would not be stupid enough to leave any prints. So she went to the window, closed it and bolted it, just to be sure, again.

After the check on her bedroom, she found all other rooms to be left just as she had earlier that day. So feeling a bit more secure than before, she went back to her laptop. It was already showing a nice screensaver with some lovely holiday pictures she had made. She kept the bat close to her as she sat down and started typing once again. She raced over those keys and the document grew rapidly. She never knew she could contain so many different thoughts inside of her head.
Before she knew it, it was almost 3 am. She did not feel tired, not at all. The adrenaline inside of her kept her going like a steam engine on fire and besides, she was too scared to go into her bedroom and close her eyes.
She slowly checked the list of thoughts, rearranging them into smaller lists. The important thoughts that needed to be answered asap and the less important ones. The thoughts that had anything to do with the break in and also with what she’d seen earlier that night. How could she ever describe what she had seen? Was there a way to put it to words? But how could she put something to words if she wasn’t even sure if it really happened. If she saw something real or if her imagination was playing games with her from the start. But even if she could put it to words, who would want to read or hear them? And if she could find someone willing to listen or read, what would that person do after it’s all been read or told? She already saw herself being shoved into a white straight jacket and shipped off, straight to the nearest mental hospital.
But maybe she would try to put it to words, just for herself. So she could read and reread what had happened. Or at least she thought what happened. How could you ever believe something that looked like magic when you don’t really believe in it? Magic hocus pocus always was like a myth to her, one she didn’t ever think possible. She had watched a lot of episodes at the Discovery Channel “Mythbusters” series on TV. She had seen many myths gone busted, so why not bust the myth of magic herself? She did not need Jamie and Adam with their myth busting team to convince her about this all.

Magic? Magic!?

Was there really such a thing? She thought it might be better to sleep for a while. On the couch though, with her bat ready when needed. After encrypting her word documents and shutting down the laptop and cell phone, she checked, double checked and again rechecked all the locks of the doors and windows. When she was absolutely sure that there was nothing unlocked, she got a small blanket and a pillow and lay herself down on the couch. Sleep caught her almost immediately. But instead of getting some well deserved rest she got some very weird dreams. Some would call it nightmares, but not her. She did not believe in nightmares. To her, everything that she dreamt about had a deeper meaning. And the more important it was, the better she would remember it when she woke up.

TO BE CONTINUED…

If you liked it, please let me know and write a comment! I am looking forward to your suggestions and ideas and also, of course, to your honest opinions! I am just going with the flow, writing this from scratch… But it will be continued, so keep checking my blog for any story updates!

An old poem

I had posted this poem on my previous blog. I also have some poems posted on my website. Please follow these two links if you are interested in reading more of my poems:
Cynni’s poems, page 1
Cynni’s poems, page 2

But here is one poem that is not on my website.

Silence in my scream
I scream but it seems that I am alone
I cry and I get chilled to the bone
I scream again but I hear nothing
it’s like my voice isn’t working

The silence that surrounds me
The darkness that makes it impossible to see
The coldness that makes me feel so small
I want to get away from it all

So I scream again and there it is
Silence, it’s my voice that I miss
No one seems to hear me call
In the darkness I seem to fall

Then the silence embraces me
It shows me things I thought could never be
The screams I’ve made all fade away
But now, I think I’d like to stay

The silence that was in my scream
Was in the end only a bad dream
But it made me think again
That I am lucky with all my friends

© Cynni, November 13th 2008