- Ron and Joe/Shutterstock
This unsurprising tale came late last week from the SPD Blotter and is now starting to make the rounds on the Information Superoverload. A University District couple came home last Wednesday to find their home ravaged by some unknown force:
[S]omeone—or something—had torn open their mail, spread clothing throughout the house, smeared lotion on a door handle, removed the inner soles from all of their shoes, screwed a single screw into a piece of scrap wood—which had been crammed into the space between a door and its frame—and placed an upside-down can of paint on top of their toilet. A purse, containing a 27-year-old woman’s ID card, had also mysteriously appeared on top of the couple’s bed.
According to the Blotter, the couple called the police, who responded and found no signs of forced entry. Later they dusted for prints but found none. The couple reported that the only thing missing was $50 in cash. Officers returned to the North Precinct "to document the case" when they got another call from the couple, who reported that they'd begun hearing noises from under their bed. “It sounded like a dying possum or raccoon. I had only heard wounded animals make that kind of noise before," unlucky resident Brian O’Neill told Vocativ.com.
Police arrived again to find a 27-year-old woman, who "appeared to be having a panic attack" emerging from the couple's bedroom. Standing at what O'Neill estimated to be 5'-7" and 90 pounds, he told Vocativ he “thought it was one of the skinniest people [he had] ever seen." Later the O'Neills reportedly discovered a hypodermic needle in their bedsheets, severed locks of blond hair strewn about the apartment, and a large kitchen knife under the bed. It was later determined that she had likely scurried up a nearby tree and entered through a window. Legend holds that banshees begin wailing when someone is about to die. In this case, though, perhaps the suspect was wailing for herself.
I've lived on Capitol Hill (for nearly a decade), in Roosevelt, and now I live in the University District, and in many ways the meth problem seems worse here than I remember it on Capitol Hill. Maybe it's just that these neighborhoods are more sedate, and so meth activity becomes more pronounced when it transpires. There's a ton of petty theft—packages stolen off porches and bikes from sheds, and the newly-broken glass of smashed car windows lines the sidewalks and parking lanes all the way out to Green Lake in patterns and frequencies that shift nightly. Or maybe it's getting worse on the Hill too. Feel free to sound off on your second-person meth activity experiences in the Comments Section to support or refute my assertion.