One of the share houses I lived in was near the first house I ever bought. I’d met my housemate at a party and we became friends so when she was looking for someone to move in and I was looking for somewhere to live, I moved in with her. She didn’t eat much, just drank wine from casks so she always had that wine smell about her. Even though she didn’t eat much if I’d left a plate and knife out after making vegemite on toast she’d go and tidy up after me before I had the chance to. Her neat freak didn’t mind a bit of cleaning up after the not so neat freak me. So we got on quite well.
I hadn’t been living there that long when in the middle of one night I was asleep in bed and woke up to her screaming in her bedroom next door. I lay in bed really still wondering if what I’d heard was real and then she screamed again. I didn’t know what the hell was going on so yelled out something like, ‘what’s happening’, or ‘are you okay’? She yelled back to stay in my room. It’s a bit sketchy to me now exactly what she said but she was very clear I wasn’t to leave my room. She kept screaming. I can’t remember if communicated to me then, or I didn’t find out until afterwards that an intruder was in her room.
I didn’t know what to do. The phone was in the hallway (no mobile phones then) and she was adamant I stay in my room. Meanwhile she kept screaming. I wanted to help but was frozen to the spot.
It would have only been a couple of minutes after it all started that she told me he’d gone. He’d gone out through the back of the house. She’d woken up to this guy in her bedroom, managed to crawl into the unused fireplace and just keep screaming and screaming until he left.
We called the police, they came around and had a look and as we didn’t think we’d be able to sleep there that night we went to a friend’s house.
We got over that one and it became a story to tell to friends including a couple of my friends who came over one night. We were in the lounge having a few drinks and catching up, and after a while they left so I went to go to bed.
It didn’t take me too long to realise that someone had been in my room – probably something to do with their access and exit via the bedroom window. They stole my handbag and a bra.
I couldn’t stay at this house for long after the second break-in. I didn’t enjoy being at home anymore and I didn’t feel safe. I feared another break-in.
I moved probably about a month later. This time I shared a house with 2 mates who played in one of Adelaide’s well-known punk bands. Nobody broke into that house while I lived there.