This could be long, depends on how angry I get recounting this story.
I will start by saying this story is true and it involves my house being broken into. By a family member no less.
The backstory goes like this....
My cousin Cody has had problems with drugs of all kinds for years now. I'm not sure when it started, I just know it was something that continued to get worse and worse over time, as these things do.
He robbed, cheated, and stole from his own immediate family and friends over the years.
Eventually he was persuaded to go live with his mother down in Georgia, I believe it was Georgia (not 100% sure). He suposedly got into rehab and was in the process of cleaning himself up so he headed back north to the area.
OK so now we move forward just a little bit to the point where he is now back hanging out with our cousins and my brother and even my wife and I.
Everything really was fine, I actually was having a great time with him.
He seemed fine, he seemed like he was on that long road back to being 'good' again.
I was happy for him. I was happy that I gave him a chance and was there to help him back onto his feet. It was hard to have any trust for him whatsoever, but there was a moment we had one night.
No, it wasn't anything weird, get your mind out of the gutter!
I had a fire in the firepit in my backyard and it got late and everyone either went to bed or left to do whatever it is they were going to do. So it was just me and Cody sitting out by the fire, sipping on a couple cocktails and talking man-to-man.
It got fairly serious as I talked with him about how I can't have him stay at my house ever because of his past and how he hasn't been the most trustworthy person ever.
He sounded like he understood and expressed to me how much he had changed and how he knew he burned a lot of bridges, but that he was a changed man.
I believed him. I really and truthfully believed him.
I still wouldn't let him stay at my house though. Someone with the history of theft that he had? of stealing from his own father to feed his drug habit? No...way...in hell.
Sometimes he would even come over during the week and Kim and I would fix him something up to eat and he could stay until we were ready for bed if he wanted, but then he had to go. I told him that was how it was going to be and he understood where I was coming from.
All that (the talk by the fire, the feedings, etc...) happened from April through June and everything was good.
Or so I thought.
The last week of June, my wife (Kimmy) and I decided we wanted to watch some TV and just veg out for the afternoon/evening. Don't you know, nothing on TV, summer TV is terrible.
So we decide to just pick a DVD that we had and haven't seen in a while. So I move the french door over to get to the case with the DVD's on it and I notice gaps in the stacks of DVD's.
I explore more to find that there are tons of DVD's missing. Then I notice that not only are about half of my total collection of DVD's missing, but most of my video games are as well.
I was in shock. I had no idea where in the hell they could have gone.
It didn't strike me at first, but then I thought, "Cody..."
Immediately after this thought I snatch my cell phone and call my brother (Kell) up to explain the situation to him and inquire if anything was missing from his apartment (Kell had been letting Cody stay there from time to time).
He sighed and told me that he just noticed the day before that he was missing DVD's too and Cody being the culprit had crossed his mind as well.
We came to the conclusion that it had to be Cody that swiped our movies/video games.
We came to this conclusion the day before my brother was moving into his new apartment. Cody was supposed to help him move and since he didn't know we found him out he was going to show up as expected to help Kell move.
And show up he did.
Kell let him in and acted normal at first, but then he told him what we had suspected him of doing. He denied it at first, as most people would, but Kell kept grilling him, telling him that he was the ONLY person in both of our houses that had access and oppurtunity like that.
He finally gave in and according to my brother started crying and apolgizing, telling him how sorry he was and so on and so forth.
Kell told him that it was unacceptable and that he didn't want to see him around anymore and that he probably wouldn't want to come around me for a good long while (I was beside myself in anger), but that an apology was definitely needed at some point.
I haven't seen Cody since.
After reading that you'd think that was the end right? RIGHT?!? WRONG!!!
Skip ahead about two weeks or so.
I have a normal day at work, same old same old, and I get out, jump on the bus and on my way home I go.
Got off the bus and walked the block down to my house, take my keys out, unlock the door.
But wait, something was out of place.
The door, the french door in the living room was in a spot that it shouldn't have been. It was half open and I immediately was suspicious.
I quickly walked into the living room, with my heart already beating into my throat knowing that something is not right.
I looked down and it wasn't what I saw, it was what I didn't see.
My Playstation 3, Playstation 2, more DVD's and video games where gone. They had been pilfered from house.
I knew almost instantaneously who had done it.
To explain to you in words my anger at that point and time would be pointless. There are no words for how blindingly angry I was.
It was at this point that I acted like someone with Tourette's and started to shout obsenities that I probably shouldn't repeat here. As I type this write now I can feel my blood pressure rising and my heart rate increasing dramatically.
I called Kimmy, I called my brother Kell, my mother, my cousin Eric, some friends that know Cody, and the Schenectady Police.
To my friends and family I expressed how Cody is now marked forever as a dead man walking (no, I had no desire to actually KILL him, it was just a figure of speech meaning when I did see him the next time, he was going to have some damage done to his face).
To the police I did as was expected reported the crime and told them that I knew who did it.
The whole reason for my anger though wasn't that I was robbed, that would make me and anyone else angry, no doubt about it, but my blind seeing red anger was that I had actually put some trust into him.
I had welcomed him into my house. Fed him. Gave him some shelter on a rainy day and a place where he could come and unwind for even a little while.
He was my own family, my own blood and he stabbed me in the back.
It hurt me inside. It hurt me to my core. I can't lie, it made me sad. Very sad.
He has now made it infinitely more hard for me to give someone, anyone, a second chance.
We (my wife, brother, and myself) helped him when no one else was willing to touch him with a ten food poll and look what he did.
We went out of our way to help him because he really needed it and no one else was willing to give it to him.
He was my family and he betrayed me. He betrayed all of us.