Juice-buying heebie jeebies

I parked on the street when I got home from my evening out, because I had the intention of running my rent check to my landlord's house and stopping by the store. However, I found that I was very tired. Tired enough to fall asleep awkwardly on the couch. You know, mouth agape. No drool this time, surprisingly.

Well, I woke up just after midnight, remembering that I promised my friend I'd buy some juice for Sunday Conference breakfast. I felt weird about leaving the house. I couldn't figure out if it was because I was tired or if my subconscious was trying to tell me that it was technically the Sabbath Day and the need for juice was no ox-in-the-mire.

I left for the store anyway.

The whole time I was gone, I felt weird inside, like something was wrong or something bad would happen.

When I got home, I parked in my usual spot in the back. As I was pulling in, I noticed that the door of the neighbor's car was open. I was sufficiently creeped. I wasn't sure if I should pull back out. I tried to look in the car to see if the neighbor was in it. I couldn't see anyone.

I sat paralyzed for several seconds trying to decide if it was safe to get out of my car.
Fortunately, there were two women on the porch of the next door neighbor's house. I figured if something went wrong, they'd hear my scream and call the police. Unless of course, they were involved in the crime scheme.

I considered knocking on my neighbor's door, but I figured it'd be safer to go straight inside.
Not sure entirely what to do, I called the Salt Lake City Police non-emergency line. I explained the scene and told them my car had been broken into last week. They sent a patrolman to check it out.
I heard the officer knock on the neighbor's door and ask him about his car. The neighbor sounded panicked and went out to his car. A few moments later, he returned to his apartment and closed the door, and the officer left. I assume that means that nothing was stolen.

I am trying to tell myself that it was simply an error on the part of the neighbor. He left his car door open on accident.

But, of course, I've watched enough crime dramas to imagine otherwise.

Now, my mind is imagining that someone was breaking into my neighbor's car. The deviant saw my headlights pulling in and hid behind one of the open carport storage doors beside the abandoned bbq grill or in one of the empty storage rooms. Fortunately, this deviant is non-violent, non-confrontational, so he/she waited for me to go inside and then left non-chalant, with the two women being unphased by his/her exit. (My short haircut made it impossible for them to know if driver of the vehicle that had just pulled in was a girl or boy. So the deviant could've been either sex and the women would've assumed that he/she was the car driver walking out of the alley.)

So, my conclusion. I am a hero. I stopped a burglary in action. My neighbor will never truly understand how blessed he is that I kept his vehicle from being robbed, stolen, or vandalized.
But my hero status doesn't make me any less scared. I wonder if Batman was scared every time he was involved in stopping a crime or remedying criminal action but followed through anyway because he's a hero and that's the expectation.

Thanks for listening (reading would be more appropriate unless you use a text reader and have the computer software read you all your internet text). This exercise helped me type out my fear and return to my sleepy state. Keep yourself safe this weekend, because this hero hasn't honed all of her superhuman skills yet. I don't know if I can do much beyond startle a would-be thief with my timing.