My neighbor called me up to say that my family’s house was robbed. He was so eager with his story and said that I come home right away to check and assess the situation. I looked at the wall clock hanging by my boss’ wall and realized that I am working late again. Overtime. Overworked but I have to finish my task and at that time, I was paid by the hour plus the differential pay when working past 9PM. My mind told me to just continue working because after all, what’s the point of hurrying back home when I am already robbed — er, we’re already robbed?
I got home around 1230AM and voila, what a sight to behold! From afar, it is like I can see our humble abode in broad daylight with all the big spotlights focused on our gate! Whopper barks endlessly and the police cannot get in through the front door. They are afraid that Whopper would bite. At the back door, the knob was already wrecked. That was the time when the other police and some of their assistants entered the house to check the robbers. A total of 4 were found but only 2 of them were caught.
At the precinct, I saw the 2 robbers and to my disgust, the other robber is a minor. Obviously, the older bastard got the kid to do the crime with him with the promise that whatever they get would be divided in half. The robbers are both bruised but the older one was using a borrowed clutch because he fell from the second floor when the police was running after him. I filed the case after that, freed the kid so that he could have a chance at life. The hearing continued and every two months and I am seeing the robber’s face and I realized how much the whole thing sucks. The so-called fiasco lasted for about 10 months and a half. Then, the case was dismissed. It was dismissed all because my witnesses are afraid to speak up, for fear that they will be the next victim. I just assumed that they are entitled to their own reasons but grateful that one of them called the police to report the incident.
The robbers are freed and it was such a sweet escape to them. The witnesses didn’t show up and up to this point, I never knew them — that, too is an undefined escape. As for me, my escape boiled down to the fact that I will no longer think about what and why it happened. I lost the case but it is a blessing that I did not lose my mind. I am grateful that the pipe and wrench did not have the chance to hit my head on that fateful night. If I went home early before 9PM at that time, I would be either killed or raped. One thing’s for sure, I would never get to hug Whopper ever again. I also learned about forgiveness after that. See, there is always a good side to every bad story. 🙂
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