A year ago I came home to find the mess you had made about an hour before. I came home to my whole world being turned upside down. I remember as soon as I pulled in I was told to call 911 and I thought it was some type of sick joke. It wasn't until I was able to look at my room for the first time an hour later that it really sunk in.

My house looked like a tornado had gone through. Every drawer was on the floor, every paper was flung around carelessly, every pill in our cupboards lay on the counter sorted through. My dog was beaten into his cage, the doors were splintered wide open, and the money my family had saved for so long with hopes of a vacation was gone except the few shiny coins you didn't have the time to pick up. My room was a mess; there was not an inch of space on the floor that was not covered. There was not an inch of that room you had not touched with your greedy hands.

Cleaning the rooms was easy compared to cleaning my mind of the torment that day and the following weeks, months and year my family went through. So many forms to fill out, so many things to sort through, and so many things to re-buy as if everything was replaceable. The things you took may have seemed replaceable but they weren't. The things you took seemed expensive, but to us they were only rich in memories. Memories we can never replace. The things you stole from me were not material; they can't be stamped with a price, they can't be sold at any store, and they definitely cannot be replaced, recovered, or healed.

You stole my innocence. You stole my pure thoughts of this world. I thought it never would happen to me, could happen to me. I thought we lived in a "safe" part of town, a place where everyone loved one another. I thought that good things happened to good people and bad things were reserved for those more selfish and careless. My family is giving, loving, caring, and you took advantage of someone who would've given everything they could from the little they had.

You stole my hope. I hoped our world was turning around. I thought our world was beginning to be more giving and accepting. I thought we were beginning to come together as an accepting and united nation. I thought there were less and less bad people in this world. I hoped that greedy, deviant, inconsiderate cowards were not as prevalent in this world; but I was wrong.

You stole my safety. This was the worst of all. I woke up every night for months as soon as I heard a noise in the middle of the night or when I was home alone. I would cry every time I sprinted out to the kitchen to see everything in it's place and realize that I was paranoid because of some monster I would never get the chance to yell and scream at. I carried a bat, broom, or anything I thought would do damage with me just in case. To this day, a year later, I still check every lock in my house before I go to sleep.

You don't understand the pain and torment you have put my family and I through from your quick 30 minute stop. You don't understand that I hate staying home alone because even though you may or may not be locked up I'm afraid of you coming back. You don't know what it feels like to not feel safe in your own home. You don't know or care that I couldn't sleep for weeks. You don't care that I feel violated every time I walk into my room or go through a cupboard because I know you were there filing through all of my personal business. You don't care that a year later I am still on edge about it happening again and you most definitely do not care that I am writing this about you. That I feel this way about you. That I am scarred from your little greedy raid. That I still cry recalling the memories, shaking as I type out of sadness and anger.

I hope you are proud of what you have done, all the things you have accomplished. I hope it was all worth it, every single house and home and life you disturbed. Every person and family you upset and belittled. I hope your little "business" was worth all the years you will face those same four walls. I hope what you did was worth all the pain and torture each one of those people you took from feel. I have been taught to forgive and forget those who have hurt me. Will I ever forgive you? Maybe, but I will never be able to forget.