I'm feeling helpless. But I'm also angry.
I was up late tonight working on some school planning when, around midnight, I heard smashing noises. I ran to our dormer window and saw a guy wearing all black running down the street. He was across the street so I thought the noises meant something happened to them so I went out to check. That's when I saw what happened. The guy had smashed in my driver's side window. Upon walking closer to the car, he also smashed my windshield. I didn't look at anything else. I headed inside, grabbed my phone to call the police, and went upstairs to awaken my husband. While I waited for the police, he found that the guy also smashed my rear window. Three windows! That's going to be expensive. We don't have that kind of money.
We've hated living here for a long time. Recently, it's been feeling better because my kids have a few friends to play with. I've gotten braver and let them play outside with the friends without me having to be there the entire time. Nothing too serious has happened. Then this happens to remind me of where we live.
I wish we could move.
I hate it here.
Updated with photos of my car: