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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

An essay about betrayal by a close friend.

Intruders. There is no exact reason explaining why they choose to intrude, only the reason(s) that have been created within themselves. Our home was defiled because strangers thought it would be best to take what they wanted. It wasn’t theirs, but they took a part of us with them when they left. It was hard for us to understand why it had to be our home, but then we also questioned why not? Because if not us then someone else, but who’s to say it wasn’t us and someone else, it was.

Taking from others somehow seems more realistic than simply asking. People steal from both family and friends as well as complete strangers yet feel no remorse until their caught; sometimes not even then. Sometimes they are completely oblivious to the wrong written and underlined in red like a misspelled word. It becomes clear that the only thing that mattered was their own agenda. The fact is it usually matters more to people when it becomes them or someone they love that has been subjected to the treachery.

Walking in caused frustration to immediately sink in. The freshly arranged boxes and bags were shoved so far out of place that it would make someone with OCD lose control. Such a satisfying “welcome to the neighborhood” gift. At least it would make unpacking a tad bit easier since we could start with the stuff on the floor first or, so I thought. My mom decided she wanted to see what was missing. While she did that I sat and thought about what could have happened.

We had just barely moved in, still moving stuff in and was only gone a few hours to get more stuff. We were moving into the hood of Cobb County. There was trash and rubble everywhere, bad kids running and screaming having no care in the world. As we approach our building it looked as if we were moving into the deserted part of town that no one dared to venture towards. The building looked as if the wind blew just a little too hard it would crumble to pieces; it did wobble later in the year from a tornado.

Now back to the break-in. I figure they had to be watching us, the new people, moving in. They had no choice but to wait until we weren’t home to make their move because there were five of us plus three kids. As they walked in the door they noticed all of the boxes and bags on the living room floor and just went at it. Either there was a woman with them or someone who just wanted to give their woman some shoes because an entire bag of my mom’s shoes were gone. It’s also possible that they got happy and started having a clothes fight since clothes were all over the place. They didn’t even bother to shut the door behind them or at least pull it up, so there’s no telling whether someone came in behind them. These intruders didn’t knock things over as if they were in a rush or searching for something; they just threw stuff all over the place like they were having fun and knew how long we would be gone so that they could take their precious time.


An intruder is a person who intrudes, especially into a building with criminal intent. I’m told that my body is a temple, that’s a building, right? People constantly have their walls up, well for the first time in a while I let mine down a few inches. Friend, I don’t use that word lightly. It really means something to me. I thought he really was my friend until he turned into an intruder.

College can be stressful and when you’re of age, alcohol can become the most sensational soother. One night on a stretch for freedom from depressiveness, I went out for drinks with my best friend. For namesake he will be called Jimmy. Jimmy was a gentleman, but that night he was not. It was discussed before I got in the car that no matter what I needed to be brought back to my dorm as soon as we left City Market. I was having fun drinking at my own pace, then things went blank. I can see briefly, we were in another bar and I was drinking a rum and coke; I don’t drink dark liquor when I go out. It’s dark again, then not, we were getting food at The Social Club. He kissed me, and I backed away and asked to go home, I was out as we began to walk back to the car.

The next time I am attentive I see us walking into what only could have been his place. I asked, “where are we, this isn’t my dorm?” He then replied, “my place really quick.” I was out again as we crossed the threshold of the door and came to with the pain of his pelvis to mine. I pushed him away and told him to take me home, after I rushed my clothes on I was out again. I woke up in my bed, in pajamas, no glasses, no hangover, and bits and pieces of an awful night. When he described the details of what happened to me, apparently after the kiss we wanted each other so he made decisions on that thought.

I could go back and forth all day on how much that didn’t make sense, but I spared myself and just gave up. By description, he is an intruder, whom intruded upon my temple without proper approval. Robert Sommer once said, “personal space refers to an area with invisible boundaries surrounding a person's body into which intruders may not come.” Breaking into someone’s space and leaving behind a mess that takes a surmount of effort to fix is simply selfish.

He’s a special kind of person because he saw no wrong in what he had done. Just as he had clarified within his head that we wanted each other when he knew all I wanted was a certain female. He was the wrong gender and the wrong friend, but I made myself believe that it was my fault. Silence just like no, is not a yes. Just like locked doors, with no keys doesn’t mean come in and out as you please.


Submitted: August 31, 2018

© Copyright 2021 BelleJenevieve. All rights reserved.

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