Too Close to Home

I come home after a night of games with grown up friends in Stockton, to find this: shattered glass next to a car I don't recognize. Is this what I think it is? Whose car is this?
I go into 'ok I think I should do something about this' mode. Ring the downstairs doorbell. Call Lauren. Should I call the cops? Why aren't they answering? Katherine isn't home. Should I knock on the neighbor's door. What time is it?
When I see 2 people walking down the street- students. Maybe drunk. One guy carrying a skateboard, and another carrying a Commerce street sign. Oh great, really?!
They find their car window smashed and something taken from the back seat. And with a stolen street sign in their hand, they call the police...oh Stockton. oh Pacific students.

Part of me doesn't know what to think. This is normal, this happens here. They could have been smarter- they probably left something in the back seat to steal. They deserved it. Should I have done more? Even if the victim was a thief, should I have intervened? I went up the stairs, slightly appalled and confused.
This is my home space. This is where I park my car. This could have been me. When does the fear of not feeling safe in your home affect you? What do you do when sometimes you feel helpless? I don't want to write this off because it wasn't my car or my house. My best friend reminded me that I don't have to. Validated in this being too close to home.

In the daytime, with a roommate back from home- safer, apathetic, distancing...still