So here's something that happened to my family, and the reason we spent almost 10 grand on security.
So where I live is 35 minutes (drive) from anything. This house is seriously in the middle of the woods. When I was 16 I had just started public school, and like most people I know, I was hungry after a long day so I would usually make PB&J's. One day I came home and noticed that we were out of Peanut butter, bread AND Jelly. "That's odd" was my immediate though, seeing as the day before we had over half a jar of each and more than 3/4ths a loaf of bread. I asked my family and they hadn't used any. I shrugged it off and went on for a few weeks not thinking about it.
So a Friday rolled around and I was super pumped for the weekend and no school. I get a ride with a friend home (family is gone to uncles) and we walk in on a man with a long brown coat standing in our kitchen. We freak and run outside and call the cops and then my family.
We're just sitting in the woods freaking out and we know it's going to take 30+ minutes for anyone to get here and it's just me and my friend a good distance outside my house watching the entrances. Nothing happens. So the cops show up shortly before my family does and they go search the house and find nothing. Nothing but the Peanut butter, Jelly and bread laying out on the counter. My family decides that day to buy cameras and new locks.
I didn't really rest easy after that and would wake up several times a night for no apparent reason. One particular night I woke up and was extremely thirsty so I made my way downstairs to the kitchen to get a drink. I hit the bottom of the stairs and hear something fall in the kitchen. I didn't really get scared for some reason, I just kept walking to the kitchen. I peered around the corner and hit the light switch. The man in the brown coat spun around and looked at me. I will never forget his face. It was a sad, rough face, covered in hair, wrinkles and dirt. His eyes though. They were bluer than the sky. He started stuttering and saying I'm sorry. At this point I freaked and ran up the stairs yelling at the top of my lungs. My dad came running down with a bat and nearly knocked me down the stairs. When he got to the kitchen the man was already gone through the back door (Flood lights were on). And there on the counter was peanut butter, bread and Jelly.
My dad reviewed the camera footage and found nothing, probably because they were outside cameras.... A day or so later my dad was checking a part of our attic that we never used (kind of like a side attic). He found an old quilt with a pillow, several books and strewn about were water bottles food wrappers and old empty jars of peanut butter, jelly, preserves etc.
Now we have like 40,000 cameras around our house and locks that would make fort knox blush.
TL;DR: We had a homeless man living in our attic for who knows how long that was eating our food.