I had to call a police raid on my house.

I remembered this story yesterday evening. I was having lunch with my brother, when he asked: "Hey, are you still living at (insert my old house description here)?" I responded with a "No. and thank God."
Here is why.
This was my first house other than the one where I had lived with my parents. I shared it with two other roommates, and one of them was a crack head who was barely home, but she always paid her dues, so no problem.
There was this one night where I knew my roommates weren't gonna be home, and so I went to the drug store on the corner to get ice cream and rental movies so that I could enjoy my night with some Cookie Dough and Comedy.
Anyways, while I biked back to my house from the store. I brought my bike up to my front porch, where I noticed the lock to my front door had been knocked off. The door was creaked slightly open and I could see what was left of my chain lock on the floor.
I didn't live in a very good neighborhood, so I always went out through the garage, and hardly used the front door, and it was almost completely locked. Chain, deadbolt and all.
I knew something was wrong and I was completely terrified, so I called the local sheriff, and told them that my house had been broken into. When I told them my address, the operator went silent, then told me to call the police. Immediately.
I called 911, while standing in the middle of the road out front of my house, ice cream in hand, ready to Ben 'n Jerry anyone who would come after me; and I told them what was going on.
They said they had a SWAT team on the way, and I asked the operator why. "Because that house address was given to the police station on an anonymous tip that someone was going to get murdered in." I thought my stomach had just turned inside out. "How? I'm the only one that's supposed to be home tonight!" It was after i'd said that, it hit me.
My roommate, the cracked one, had said to me just a few days before we'd all have to pay our rent: "I might be a little short on mine... I'm loose on money these days, and i'm struggling to pay a few other people off." I had just brushed it off at the time, but now it made sense.
Cops and SWAT came. They escorted out 4 men. Each of them looking like they'd each just gotten a HARD hit of drugs. Which they probably had. They were all taken into custody, and i'm not entirely sure what came of them. But I do know this:
According to the police, my cracked friend had actually come forward, she was the original tipper, and then later confessed. She couldn't pay her debt to these guys, and so promised me as payment. Said I'd be home alone and that they could do whatever they wanted to me.
I haven't seen her in about 5-6 years now, and I never want to ever again. I moved out within the following week, and spent each night at my said brother house. Although I never did tell him why i'd moved out in the first place.
And so, druggies in my house, I hope for your sake, I never see you again.


Source.