Schiller Apartment Shenanigans: Rebekah

This is a story about me being honest about being dishonest, where I didn't know I was being dishonest.

I didn't know Rebekah. I never knew she existed. Obviously someone had lived in apartment number 9, but I never saw her or knew about her. There were always a couple apartments where I didn't see the person living there. For instance, number 1, on my side, we always assumed was a drug dealer. There were always people coming and going, and there was a big, white van outside. But we never saw who lived there.

About Rebekah, apparently my neighbors knew about her. They knew her name. One day, Chef Steve and Jared came to me while I was outside and asked if I wanted to pick through her things. I said, "What? I'm no thief. I'm not going to steal her shit!"

They insisted that she had been evicted, had abandoned the place, the door was unlocked, and all was fair game. It sounded reasonable. This was the type of place where that sort of thing was quite likely.

There was not much furniture, the place was already pretty picked out, as though what they said was indeed true.

I walked in, and at first glance, it kind of looked like a treasure trove. Chef Steve and Jared were all about me finding anything I liked, since I was a girl, and it was a girl's place. I went through everything, carefully and methodically. I was a picky collector of special things at the time, and therefor didn't find much that I liked. I was never big on collecting other people's kitchen things, so I skipped that section. If there was anything of value there, I don't know. I slowly made my way to the bedroom, where the two men opened the closet. She had a huge collection of fur coats. It seemed that she was larger than me, so, while I liked a lot of them, they were huge on me. I found one coat that seemed to fit me reasonably. It still felt absurd, wearing it, but I took it. 

Then we came out to the living room where there was a desk. I had just started painting and in the desk, I found a wicker basket in the shape of a small travel suitcase. The latch was quite precarious and didn't make sense to me, but there was a gold mine of oil paints in it, and those are quite expensive. So, I took the basket/box, and I kept it for years, using the paints to no end, before doing away with oil paints and giving it to my sister-in-law, along with all the oil paints I had accrued over the years.

In another drawer, I found a necklace that intrigued me. I took it, as well, and I still have it. It felt very tribal, and I was very into it.

A month later, I learned that Rebekah hadn't abandoned her place. But she had left her door unlocked and hadn't taken anything. I was no thief, but I also wasn't a snitch, especially on myself.

I never wore the fur coat. It seemed too over the top to me. However, I no longer have it and don't remember what I did with it.

I'm sorry to Rebekah, because, I was naive and didn't know exactly what I was doing. But, I also feel that I took as little as I could, and only what I thought I could use.

My Links:

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Old Soul Soap