It was the 2nd of July around 9.40 pm. I had convinced my movie loving 14 year old to watch the ‘ Girl With The Dragon Tattoo’ – I wanted to show her what a fantastic actor the recently departed Michael Nyqvist was , and how brilliant this movie is. She likes horror movies, so this particular movie would be like a Disney film to her !

We had switched off the lights and only tv lit up the living room. Suddenly we hear this loud ,roaring car outside, and someone tried to open our frontdoor, which opens up straight into the living room. I assumed that it was our neighbour coming back from the pub, having taken an uber back, trying to get into the wrong house …it wouldn’t have been the first time ! We dismissed it. But moments later we hear the door handle being frenetically pulled up and down. Before we could process what was going on, these two young men , probably in their 20’s, barged in to our living room, using a crowbar to break in !

It was as if time froze in that moment. All I could think was ‘ This cannot be happening ! What the fuck are these fuckers doing in our house ??? They are not coming in here !’. So I ran towards the door screaming on the top of my lungs, followed by my teenage daughter who did the same. The burglars took a step back, a big enough step to let me slam the door shut on them, before locking the door.

My daughter kept shouting ‘ Call the police, call the police, call the police !’. But thanks to the useless reception in this particular area (and no thanks to Vodafone) , it took us several minutes to actually be able to make that call. When I finally got through I was naturally in a state of panic. The ever so lovely call handler at the police said firmly – If you don’t calm down ,I will not speak to you !’ (great people skills. I could appreciate that it was hard to hear what I was saying,but a gentler tone of voice may have helped at that particular moment) . She told me that the police would be around within minutes. I rang a neighbour who came around to keep us company until the police came. One whole hour went by…nothing ! So I rang the police again…they had never logged the first call. And they knew that I was alone in the house with my child at the time of the break in – my partner was abroad working.

The police eventually came,and couldn’t have been kinder.But apart from one more flying visit by one of their colleagues and a forensic officer…that was pretty much it.

I rang victims support as I knew that my daughter would need help in overcoming what had just happened. I was full of adrenaline, so didn’t even look at the faces of the burglars, but my daughter looked on of them straight in the eye…

The night of the break in, we stayed over at her friend’s place. My daughter had been on the phone to her afterwards, and her friend’s father offered us his sofa bed for the night. But the next night we were back in the house, and we did not feel safe despite leaving all the lights on, putting a heavy wooden chest in front of the locked front door, sleeping in my bed, with another heavy wooden chest in front of the bedroom door.

My partner returned and sorted out an alarm, we were also informed that our frontdoor was indeed very safe. The problem is that we only locked the door by pulling the door handle up from the inside, which makes it impossible for anyone outside to get in…unless they use a crowbar ,that is ! Had we locked the door with the key, like we do every single night before going to bed, then they would not have managed to enter via the front door – the hatches on the door hooks into the frame of the house, so it would have been pointless trying to break in.

But we never felt safe being in the living room at night,we never felt safe sleeping at night – what if they tried to come back ? What if someone else tried to break in ? Any sound, even a knock on the door, a passing car, would make us jump.

A week or so after , there was a knock on the door. Well,not really a knock, the person was violently slamming our letterbox, then he went away. Before I got to check who it was through the window, he returned and did the same thing again.  My daughter who was int he livingroom with me literally flew upstairs in panic, thinking that the burglars might have returned! Through an open window, I asked who he was and what he wanted . He replied ‘ I am from British Gas, I need to check your meter !’. I explained to him ‘ It’s under the staircase, so I will call it in’. He insisted on coming in, and I repeated what I had just said, adding ‘ We just had a break in, and I don’t feel comfortable in letting anyone in’. The meter reader shouted back ,adding a laugh at the end ‘ So what the fuck has your break in got to with me ?!? Ha ! Now, let me check the meter !’. I told him I would not let him in, and he went mad ! I looked out of the window as he was cussing at me in West Indian. My neighbours saw him walking down the road, and thought he was just a madman, shouting out randomly as he walked off with a face like thunder. So.I reported him to British Gas who confirmed that he was working for them. A few hours later I logged on to my tele class as I was doing an evening course. I heard this rattling sound outside as I was trying to listen to my tutor. I looked out and saw these two teenage girls trying to steal my daughter’s bike  ! I banged on the window, and the girls scarpered ! My daughter was in tears…this was the third incident to have happened in the space of a week or so ! No wonder she did not feel safe, and did I feel safe ? No !

I burst into tears randomly, I had nightmares. My daughter could not relax either, and I asked her teachers to please keep an eye on her ,informing them all about what happened the morning after the break in.

Luckily we had two holidays coming up, one week in Sweden and one week in Italy. As our plane left Stansted for Stockholm , I noticed that tears were flowing down my face. I didn’t even know that I was crying until I felt that wetness on my cheeks. The stress of the past weeks was slowly coming out. Then the same thing happened again as we stood on the ferry taking us to Djurgarden in Stockholm…out of nowhere I burst into tears. Ever since that break in, we had not been able to relax at all, we had not had a proper night’s sleep, we had not felt safe at any time of day when in the house. Now finally, we could let go. But my daughter had bottled things up far more than I had thought. We had discussed what had happened almost daily, and my partner and I were doing all we can to make her feel safe again. But it does not matter how safe you make a house or what you say after a break in…the trauma is in your mind, no matter how much you try to push it out.

We were sat at a restaurant in Gamla Stan, Stockholm, with my sister and her family, when suddenly my daughter couldn’t breathe. We thought she may have had an allergy attack as she ran to the bathroom, trying to throw up. My partner took her outside,and I now worried that it may be an asthma attack – she had had a few many years ago, and maybe all that stress she had been under, had brought one on ? Should we call the ambulance ? What’s the number ? We’re in Sweden now, not the UK…is it 999? Or 90000 ? My partner recognised that it was a panic attack , and as I ran out after them, I saw in his eyes that he was dealing with it with a calm that I could not have managed , just what she needed to help her breathe slowly and calm down. They stood on the pavement hugging, he was calming her down with his words and his actions, and slowly but surely, her very rapid heart beat slowed down, as did her breathing. My sister and her family came out, and my sister distracted my daughter with cracking some jokes and telling her some stories. My daughter was feeling full of nausea with the shock, but we found a quiet cafe to sit down and give her some time to recover. This panic attack was all because of the stress caused by the break in, and the aftermath of it .

We went to Italy the following week, and had a wonderful time, really enjoying ourselves. We finally managed to really let ourselves go and relax after all the trauma that we had been through. Towards the end of the holiday, we were staying with my partner’s mother on the 4th floor. My daughter had my partner’s mother’s dog with her in her room. My partner and I were drifting off as we heard my daughter’s horrified screams . My partner ran into her room and I followed. We had no clue what had happened, but my daughter was shaking like a leaf, crying hysterically.  Her bedroom door had opened with a loud sound (it was a strong breeze coming from the window that had caused it, I’d think ) , but that sound caused my daughter to suffer with flashbacks from the break in. She heard people talk outside, and it did not matter that we were on the 4th floor…in her mind they were right outside the room. That night she slept with me, holding me so hard …I could feel that huge fear she had.

Back in London ,my partner increased our security even further. We now have cameras alerting us to anyone coming near our house. But my daughter has not managed to sleep in her own room yet out of fear. I have chased up Victims Support again. Turns out they had no records of my previous calls (just like the police previously !) . But this time I spoke to a very supportive man who has promised my daughter to get her counselling for PTSD.

You feel absolutely helpless as a parent when you cannot help your own child. You feel helpless when you cannot make them feel safe in their own home. Your heart feels as if it is being torn out when you see their hurt and fear.

These burglars may not have taken any of our possessions, but they took away our ability to feel safe in our own home. And as someone who practice buddhism and believes in the power of karma , I truly hope that they will suffer for the pain that they have inflicted on my daughter, our family, and all the other families that I am sure that they have also hurt.