Reclaimed

A surge of anger fueled adrenalin pulsed through my body this morning when I opened my door to check the mailbox and noticed that my bike was stolen from right outside my front door. The lock that I used to chain it to the gas meter was all that was left. My bike is not exactly a desirable item, it is a beat up, brown cruiser bike with a flat tire, no brakes and a broken kick stand. That said, it is also very identifiable with its rainbow happy face bell and basket. I absolutley LOVE my bicycle! Admittedly I do not live in the best neighbourhood in town, but many of my neighbours chain their bikes up outside, so I felt comfortable leaving my bike outside. That is, until it was stolen. Someone went to a lot of trouble to take my bike, first attempting to pick the lock, then breaking the lock cover, then finally cutting the cable with a tool. I hate being a victim. I hate the invasive feeling that being a victim of theft left me with. I decided to take the dog for a walk and check a couple of alley's for my bike. I did not make it very far. Two houses down from ours I saw a glimmer of metallic brown through the fence boards. I was filled with hope as I peered over the fence and saw, leaning against the fence in my neighbours backward, my beloved bike. I knocked on the door and a young man answers.

Me: Hi, I am your neighbour, my name is Melissa, are your parents home?

Him: Ahh nope, can I help you.

Me: Well, look, my bike was stolen last night and I was walking by and happened to notice it parked in your backyard.

Him: No I dont think that is your bike, are you sure?

Me: Well it is a vintage brown bicycle with happy face bell, so yes I am sure.

Him: *Gives me a skeptical look*

Me: Well I am going in there and taking my bike.

Him: You can't do that.

Me: Well either I'll go back there and get it myself or I will call the police and get them to go and get it.

So that said, I went and got my bike and took it home. I gained little satisfaction from telling off my neighbours. I still feel invaded and the truth is that the problem runs deeper than the bike.