My personal 9-11

I didn't get around to writing anything yesterday. The Parents showed up to see their grandson and I had no spare time in the evening. I hadn't told them of the events of the previous night and the dragon filled them in when they arrived. I was still at work. They were undertsandably concerned. I think the dragon is probably more affected by this than any of us. She was apparently in tears yesterday when she told my parents. That hurts me far more than the punches did.

The police said they don't hold out much hope of catching the scum bag. If they find the id card that he took, or the bank card, they can dust it for prints. But the bank says the card will be routinely destroyed if it gets swallowed by an ATM because I reported it stolen. I believe the first thing he did when he left me was go to an ATM. He may have tried to use it before I reported it stolen, though he wouldn't have got anywhere with the pin I gave him. It is possible that an ATM may get a picture of him if he tries to use the card, but not all ATMs have cameras it seems. The other things that could get him caught are the tattoo on his right inner forearm, which I have described and is distinctive, or some other cctv footage of him using the card. I hope they do catch him. I'm sure he's done this before and he will again.

I wonder what his life is like. The police said he'll be a drug user with no other focus in his life. My Father says he must have been to prison because he knew exactly how to mug someone, and habitual muggers don't stay out of jail for long. I hope he's right about that. Our lives are so different. I get up in the morning to go to work. He gets up in the evening to go and rob someone. People like him are like another species to me. He's someone I wouldn't even speak to in normal circumstances. He can't be happy living like that can he? He can never go to sleep at night pleased with what he's achieved that day. I bet he never goes to sleep looking forward to tomorrow. His parents can never have looked at him and said, "That's great son, I'm really proud of you". Should part of me pity him?

I'm surprised at how little anger I have. My Mother said she was pleased he only got £5. I told her I don't really care about the money. I think I would have felt the same if he had taken £20 or £100. I suppose I'm glad he didn't profit much from his crime, but losing money somehow seems trivial. I'm definitely more concerned about getting my Taiwanese ARC back. I suppose it was good to give him something with no address on. I just wish it had been something I didn't need, or at least easier to replace.

I thought maybe I would be nervous about walking home yesterday. I won't lie, it was on my mind, and I took a different route home, avoiding dark alleys and deserted subways. I walked within a few metres of the crime scene however, and I didn't throw up or faint. I heard footsteps running up behind me at one point and it startled me, but it was just a group of joggers. I think tomorrow I will walk to the station using the route I took on Monday evening again. Call it therapy or something. I won't let this change me.