Posted in Trap House Chronicles

Princess in the Trap House: Moving Out

My sentence of living in the Trap House was finally over, and I had mixed emotions. Mostly excited and thrilled to be leaving that dump of a house. The only problem was my father was finally going to see where I’ve been living for the past four months. 

The whole neighborhood looked a mess, dirty streets and boarded up homes was the view as you drove down my street. I was a little scared because I knew he would have never let me live there and he was about to fuss! But before we even get to the actual move out day, let me tell y’all how I took procrastination to a new level. 

For about two weeks before the move out date, my father would call and remind me to be all packed up by the time he comes. Of course, it went in one year and out the other, so I kept pushing packing off to another day. Before I knew it, it was two days before I was supposed to move out, but I didn’t have the time to pack. I believe it was a Thursday, and I was moving out that Saturday, which was also the same night as my bday party. While Friday one of my close friends was graduating. So, instead of staying home and packing up all my stuff, I just packed a small bag for Thursday and Friday night. I was staying at the graduate’s house those nights and we planned to go out and party to celebrate her success. 

I arrived back to my Trap House Saturday morning with about 2 hours to pack up my entire living space before my dad arrives. My dad calls and lets me know he’s almost at my place and he thinks he’s lost because all he saw were boarded and vacant homes, but I lovingly reassured him, he was on the right path. When he finally pulls up and I let him in, let’s just say he wasn’t a happy camper. Not only did he see his daughter was living in a Trap House, but I wasn’t even close to being all packed up. 

He helped me pack up the rest of my stuff, along with a lecture about safety and procrastination. The normal dad type of talks, that had me wishing I was actually packed and ready to go. When we were finally done and I could officially turn in my key and leave that dump of a house, I felt accomplished, that my spoiled butt actually survived, like I just completed my own reality show! 

I definitely made a lot of life long memories being a Princess in a Trap House. 

Posted in Trap House Chronicles

Princess in the Trap House pt. 4

You know living in the trap house had many difficulties, that I didn’t mind so much. Up until I heard a mouse in my room. I’m terrified of bugs and have a fear of mice.

I remember hearing the bickering couple in the basement complain about mice, but I’ve never seen any and assumed I wouldn’t because the boxer’s kittens spent the majority of the time in my room. The boxer eventually took his kittens away and gave them to his mother, leaving my room vulnerable for an attack. 

One day as I was laying on my bed, I heard little chewing on a wrapper and shortly after heard it run across my room. I quickly called my landlord, who said he’ll come by the next day to lay traps. But I needed an immediate solution because I was terrified at thought of sharing my room with a mouse for the night. So, I called my brother to come and help me catch the mouse or place traps down or something, but of course, he was useless and refused to come and help. 

So, I called my friend, the same guy from the “Our Story” series, to come over and mouse hunt with me. While I waited for his arrival, I stayed on my bed terrified and watched a movie to distract myself, but that was useless. That little mouse was having a field day in my room! I saw it running back and forth, climbing on my close, and trying to get in my trunk where I locked up all my snacks. My friend eventually arrived and basically laughed and made fun of me for a bit, before he decided to be useful. After he moved a couple of things around and I realized I wasn’t made for the mouse hunting lifestyle, I decided it may be best for me to wait downstairs. 

When I returned back upstairs, he tore my room apart looking for the mouse! I felt like I was in an episode of Tom and Jerry, and was being outsmarted by a rodent. The mouse must have left my room and went to another place in the house, but I didn’t want to stay in my room alone. My friend agreed to stay with me, but he really just made jokes the whole night and called me a giant baby for being scared of a mouse.

Luckily I had about a month left living in the trap house and all of these horrors will soon be over. Unfortunately, it looked like the mouse wasn’t going anywhere, and it was time for to get over this fear. So, I ended up naming the mouse Nibbles and plotted his doom every day until I moved out. Luckily, I’m officially no longer scared of mice but hope never to share a room with another mouse again.

Posted in Trap House Chronicles

Princess in the Trap House pt. 3

As I’ve stated before, each one of my housemates added to the adventure and excitement of living in the trap house. The mother and daughter duo was a pair that I could never fully understand. They lived on the second floor and shared a small room with no windows. The daughter was pregnant and her cousin often stayed with them. 

I could never fully comprehend how the three of them could fit into that small room, but again that was none of my business. They were relatively polite to me and never caused me too much drama. All except the time their toothpaste went missing and the pregnant daughter actually came all the way up to my room to interrogate me. After a rude inquisition, I rarely had any other encounter with them; maybe passing pleasantries that they rarely returned. 

But something I could look forward to almost every night starting around 9, was them banging on the door for someone to let them in. I do not know if they ever had a key, lost the key, or simply never believed in using keys. Regardless, they were always locked out and expected us to keep the door unlocked for them. Yes, I realize my next statement is completely unsafe, but hey I’m alive to write about it. So, for the majority of the time, the door would remain unlocked. 

On a few occasions, I would like the main door, and when they would return realizing they were in fact locked, it was always a show. They would bang on the door and demand for someone to open the doors. Most of the time, it’ll take a while for someone to decide to let them in. I would never, just out of laziness and the fact that I could never understand why they didn’t have their key. When they would finally get in the house, they continued to yell and scream, and act like the house was purposely trying to keep them out.

One time I guess, the whole house was fed up with them and everyone refused to let them in. They did their usual banging and screaming and I assume they eventually called our landlord. He began calling everyone in the house, I politely declined the call and returned to watching my show. Eventually, the landlord arrived to let them in and I faked sleep. The more I think about it, the more I don’t miss that house. 

Posted in Trap House Chronicles

Princess in the Trap House pt.2

Living in the trap house I was rarely bored. There was always some sort of excitement either in or outside of the house. One of the common themes of drama in the house was theft. Al Humduillah (Thank God), no one ever stole anything from me, maybe nobody felt like walking all the way upstairs, but most likely because God was looking out for me. 

One of the most memorable theft moments was when the Boxer’s laptop went missing. I was living in the house for about a month and a half at this point, and the most I’ve heard him say was about 10 words. Until that night, he was yelling and fussing almost all night. He first started with calmly asking all the housemates if we have seen his laptop, and of course, everyone said no. Actually, he never did come all the way upstairs and ask me. 

Then it was about 10 min of silence before all hell broke loose. I remember hearing a whole bunch of screaming and yelling, but one argument stood out the most. The pregnant housemate was telling the Boxer to get over it and quit disturbing the peace due to the fact she was also a victim of theft. She eventually revealed the item was just toothpaste and I sincerely hope she saw how the two things weren’t equivalent. 

Eventually I heard another housemate step in to defuse the situation, but honestly, the more people tried to calm him down, the madder he became. I’m assuming someone called the landlord, at some point in the midst of the screaming and banging he walks into the house. 

He takes the Boxer outside, where I had a perfect view and tries to talk to him. After a lot of going back and forth, the landlord agreed to replace his laptop. 

The boxer ended up with an upgrade, our landlord bought him the latest Mac Book and the Boxer never seemed to learn his lesson. He still continued to leave his door wide open, even when he wasn’t home.  Meanwhile, during all the drama I was upstairs sipping and enjoying my tea. 

I really don’t miss living in that house and still amazed that I ever lived there. Hearing the Boxer fuss was a nice break from the bickering couple. 

Posted in Trap House Chronicles

Princess in the Trap House

My first semester living on my own off-campus was an unforgettable adventure. During the search for housing, I wasn’t too picky because I was aware it was only going to be for a semester, and like most things my mindset was “what’s the worst thing that can happen”.

I moved to a not so desirable neighborhood. If you walk a few blocks forward you were by Johns Hopkins University, but if you walk a few blocks back, you were in the hood. My street was filled with vacant and boarded up homes, but I saw the potential of the neighborhood. 

My housemates, definitely added to the adventure of my already exciting setting. It was a four-level home with about 6 bedrooms, and I had about 8 housemates. In the basement lived a couple with a giant mean dog! The woman was in her late 40s, while the man was about 25 years old, and they argued every day all day! Upstairs initially seemed a little calmer, but I soon met the rest of my housemates. A young pregnant woman and her mother lived in one room. They had a revolving door of drama, disrespectful house guest, and sticky fingers. Next door to them was an aspiring boxer, who owned these 2 kittens, who I absolutely fell in love with. He was always nice and respectful; plus pretty much let me play with the cats whenever I wanted. The room directly below me, that was my favorite housemate, and we actually became good friends. He was the landlord’s son and was a recent grad. We both shared an amazing sense of style and had the same mindset when it came to life.

As for me, I lived on the very top floor and considered myself a princess trapped amongst the ratchets. For the most part, I barely interacted with my houseguest, because I was always either on-campus or just stayed up in my room. I would hear all the chaos going on below me and knew to just mind my business. Even though I would never put myself in that situation again, I do have a lot of fond memories.