What should have been a picture-perfect wedding day took a bizarre turn when a coffin, topped with a giant bow, was carried to the altar. The bride was left stunned, guests sat in silence, and what happened next would be remembered as the most unexpected prank of the day.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” my dad asked, his warm hand resting on my shoulder as I adjusted my veil in the mirror.
A bride looking at herself in a mirror | Source: Pexels
“I’ve been ready my whole life, Dad,” I said with a grin. My hands were steady, but my heart raced with excitement.
I wasn’t the kind of girl who dreamed of fairy tales, but I’d always wanted this day—a day full of love, laughter, and family. And now it was happening. Everything was perfect, down to the last detail, just like I’d planned.
A bride near a window | Source: Pexels
I’d spent months picking out flowers, choosing the right colors, and making sure everyone knew their place. My mom used to say I was a bit of a control freak, but it made me feel safe, knowing things were in order.
“You look beautiful,” my dad added, a bit choked up.
“Don’t start crying yet,” I teased. “We still have to make it down the aisle.”
A father hugging her daughter | Source: Pexels
I couldn’t wait to walk down that aisle and see Jacob—my soon-to-be husband. He wasn’t like me. He never overthought things. Jacob was calm and funny, always ready to make me laugh when I got too serious. That’s what I loved most about him.
Jacob and I met four years ago at a mutual friend’s party. I had been sitting in the corner, avoiding small talk, and he walked up to me with a big smile.
“You look like you’re having a blast,” he said, holding a drink in each hand.
A woman at a party | Source: Pexels
“I hate parties,” I admitted.
“Me too,” he laughed, even though he was clearly having a great time.
That was Jacob—easygoing, with a knack for making the best of every situation. We started talking, and it didn’t take long before I was laughing too. That night changed everything for me.
A smiling young man | Source: Pexels
We were opposites in many ways, but we just fit. I liked order; he loved spontaneity. I had my life planned out; he preferred to go with the flow. But somehow, it worked.
“I can’t believe you’re getting married,” my best friend Kate had said during the bachelorette party. “You used to say you didn’t believe in all this wedding stuff.”
“I didn’t,” I replied, thinking of Jacob. “But then I met him.”
Two friends laughing | Source: Pexels
Jacob had his own set of friends—guys he’d known since grade school. They were a loud, rowdy bunch, always playing jokes on each other. Sometimes they drove me nuts, but Jacob loved them, and I knew they meant the world to him.
His best man, Derek, was always the ringleader, coming up with crazy pranks and schemes. The guys called themselves the “bachelor club,” like they were stuck in high school.
Friends hanging out | Source: Pexels
“They’ll grow up one day,” Jacob always said with a grin.
But even though they were immature at times, Jacob was different when he was with me. He wasn’t just a prankster—he was thoughtful and kind, always finding little ways to make me smile. He’d leave me notes, cook dinner when I was tired, and listen to my endless wedding planning without complaint.
A happy couple in a field | Source: Pexels
“That’s what you’re supposed to do when you love someone,” he once told me, shrugging like it was the easiest thing in the world.
The day had finally arrived, and the sun was shining. It was perfect. As I stood there, ready to marry the love of my life, I took a deep breath. My father was by my side, my family and friends were all waiting outside, and Jacob… well, he was probably cracking jokes with his friends, trying to calm his nerves.
A groom tying his shoes | Source: Pexels
“You ready?” Dad asked again, sensing my excitement.
“I’ve never been more ready,” I replied.
With one last look in the mirror, I smiled. Everything was exactly how it was supposed to be. I wasn’t nervous, just eager to see Jacob standing at the end of that aisle, waiting for me.
A smiling bride | Source: Pexels
And then we stepped outside.
The ceremony was going perfectly. The soft hum of music filled the air as Jacob and I stood facing each other, hands intertwined. He was smiling at me, and I could feel the warmth of his love radiating in that moment. My heart swelled with joy, and I could see tears welling up in his eyes. We were about to exchange our vows, the most important words of our lives.
A bride and groom looking at each other | Source: Pexels
But just as I opened my mouth to speak, something strange caught my eye. From the back of the venue, a group of people appeared. They were walking slowly, carrying something heavy. At first, I thought it was a joke—someone bringing in a last-minute wedding gift. But as they got closer, I saw what they were carrying. A coffin.
My stomach dropped. I blinked, hoping I was imagining things, but no—there it was. A real, wooden coffin, with a giant red bow on top.
Men carrying a coffin at a wedding | Source: Midjourney
“What the…?” I whispered to myself, barely able to process it. This couldn’t be happening.
The guests, who had been smiling and laughing just moments before, fell silent. The music seemed to fade into the background as all eyes turned to the approaching coffin. Confusion rippled through the crowd. My pulse raced. I looked over at Jacob, expecting him to react, but he just stood there, wide-eyed like everyone else.
Men carrying a coffin | Source: Pexels
“What is this?” I thought, panic building in my chest. “Is it a prank? Something gone horribly wrong?” I glanced around, looking for some kind of answer, but nobody seemed to know what was happening. My head was spinning, and I felt lightheaded, like I might faint.
The group of men carrying the coffin came closer. My heart pounded in my chest, and I could feel my knees trembling. I clutched Jacob’s hand tightly, but even he seemed too shocked to move.
A shocked bride | Source: Freepik
They walked right up to the altar and set the coffin down at our feet. I could barely breathe.
Then, one of Jacob’s friends—Derek, the best man—stepped forward. Of course, it was him. If anyone was behind something as insane as this, it had to be Derek. He reached for the lid of the coffin, his hand moving slowly, as if he was deliberately building suspense.
“Derek, what the hell is going on?” I finally managed to say, my voice shaky.
A close-up of a man carrying a coffin | Source: Pexels
He didn’t answer. Instead, he smiled—a big, goofy grin—and lifted the lid.
I gasped. Inside the coffin wasn’t what I feared. No grim surprise or morbid joke. Instead, lying there was a large framed portrait of Jacob, with a huge gift bow wrapped around it like he was some kind of present.
A man’s photo in a coffin | Source: Midjourney
For a second, I was too stunned to react. My brain struggled to make sense of what I was seeing. Then, from behind the coffin, the rest of Jacob’s friends jumped out, shouting, “Surprise!!!”
I just stood there, frozen, trying to process it all. My mind went from panic to confusion to… realization. Slowly, it dawned on me: this was all a prank. A ridiculous, over-the-top prank pulled by Jacob’s friends. The coffin, the portrait—everything. They were symbolizing that Jacob was “dead” to them now that he was getting married.
A photo in a coffin | Source: Midjourney
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered, still in shock.
Derek burst out laughing, clearly pleased with himself. “He’s a married man now! He’s gone forever!” he shouted, pointing at Jacob’s picture. The rest of the guys were laughing, too, slapping each other on the back like they’d just pulled off the greatest prank of all time.
A laughing man | Source: Unsplash
I turned to look at Jacob, who was now grinning sheepishly. “I had no idea,” he said quickly, holding up his hands like he was innocent in all of this. “I swear, I didn’t know they were planning this.”
For a moment, I didn’t know what to do. Part of me wanted to strangle Derek for pulling something so outrageous in the middle of my wedding. But then… the absurdity of it all hit me. Jacob’s friends were always pulling stunts like this. It was their way of showing they cared. And, honestly, it was kind of funny.
A thoughtful bride | Source: Freepik
Before I knew it, I started laughing. I couldn’t help it—the whole situation was so ridiculous. Soon, Jacob was laughing too, and then the guests joined in. The tension dissolved, and the mood lightened again. The wedding wasn’t ruined. If anything, it was just made more memorable.
“I can’t believe you guys did this,” I said, wiping away a tear from laughing so hard.
A laughing couple at their wedding | Source: Pexels
“It’s all in good fun,” Derek replied, still grinning from ear to ear. “We couldn’t let Jacob off that easy. We had to say goodbye to him properly.”
Jacob shook his head, still smiling. “You guys are ridiculous.”
“Well,” I said, still catching my breath, “It’s a good thing all our family and friends have a good sense of humor. This could’ve gone horribly wrong.”
A bride laughing | Source: Freepik
I turned to Jacob, feeling a wave of love and relief. Despite the craziness, everything was perfect. This was our wedding, and it would be a day we’d never forget.
Jacob leaned in, kissing me softly. “I love you,” he whispered, his eyes twinkling.
“I love you too,” I whispered back, thinking to myself, What a day.
A bride and a groom kissing | Source: Pexels
Liked this story? Consider checking out this one: I invited a fortune teller to my bridal party as a playful prank to rattle my difficult future mother-in-law. What started as harmless fun quickly spiraled into a shocking confrontation, revealing a secret hidden in her designer bag that threatened to ruin my wedding day entirely.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
My Partner Wants Half the Rent from My Dad’s Gifted House!
When my boyfriend moved in, everything felt great, until he found out I owned the house. I didn’t think it would be a big deal, but his reaction led to a fight we didn’t expect.
I was eighteen when my dad gave me the keys to my own house. It was an old two-story building that had been in our family for years. This gift meant a lot to me. We weren’t wealthy, not at all.
Dad bought the house for a great price from his grandmother’s cousin, and I knew how lucky I was. Every time I walked through the front door, I felt thankful
The house had its quirks. Each floor was like its own apartment, with separate entrances, kitchens, and bathrooms. I lived upstairs and rented the downstairs to a nice woman named Maggie.
She paid $500 a month—less than most places, but I wasn’t in it for the money. The rent just covered basic costs. I handled everything myself, which gave me a little independence.
Three months ago, my boyfriend, Jason, moved in with me. We’d been together for six months, and it made sense. His lease was ending, and my place had the space. Plus, it felt good to be building a life together.
He was easygoing about most things, and we split groceries evenly, which worked for both of us. We never really talked about finances beyond daily expenses.
He didn’t ask about rent, and I didn’t mention that I owned the house. It wasn’t that I was hiding it; it just didn’t seem important.
One night, while we were watching TV, a news story came on about rising rent prices. Jason groaned and said, “Man, landlords are the worst. They only care about money. It’s like they don’t think about people who can’t afford a place to live.”
I stayed quiet, sipping my tea, unsure of what to say. I didn’t know how to explain that I was technically a landlord. But I wasn’t like the ones he was talking about. I charged fair rent and didn’t try to take advantage of my tenant.
Jason continued, shaking his head. “It’s just wrong, you know? People shouldn’t profit from something as basic as housing.”
I nodded, trying to change the subject as soon as I could. We spent the rest of the night like usual, but his words stuck with me. What would he think if he knew I was renting out part of the house? I didn’t want to make it awkward, so I kept it to myself.
A few days later, I was cleaning the kitchen when there was a knock at the door. I wiped my hands on a towel and opened it to see Maggie looking worried.
“Hey, Maggie, everything okay?” I asked.
She frowned. “My freezer stopped working. I tried everything, but it’s just dead.”
“Oh no,” I said, stepping outside. “Let me take a look.”
I followed her downstairs to her apartment. Sure enough, the freezer was warm, and nothing seemed to be working. I sighed, knowing it was probably time to replace it.
“I’ll pay for a new one,” I said. “Just send me the receipt, and I’ll reimburse you.”
Maggie smiled, relieved. “Thanks, I really appreciate it. I’ll go shopping for one tomorrow.”
“No problem,” I replied. “I’ll make sure you get the money back quickly.”
As I headed back upstairs, I realized Jason had probably heard the whole conversation. He was sitting on the couch when I walked in, looking a bit confused.
“Everything okay with Maggie?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said casually, “her freezer broke, but I told her I’d cover it.”
Jason raised an eyebrow. “You’re paying for her freezer? Why would you do that?”
I paused, unsure of how to answer. “Well, the freezer was here when she moved in, so it’s kind of my responsibility.”
He frowned. “I don’t understand. Why is that your responsibility?”
I could feel the tension rising. “Because… it’s my house. I rent it to her.”
Jason stared at me, his expression changing as he processed what I just said.
“You own this place?” His voice was sharper, more surprised than I expected.
“Yeah,” I said slowly. “I thought you knew.”
“No, I didn’t know,” he replied, his tone turning colder. “You never told me.”
“Well, it never came up,” I explained. “It’s not like I was trying to hide it.”
Jason shook his head, standing up. “I just… I can’t believe this.”
He walked over to the window, looking out as if trying to make sense of everything.
I stayed quiet, not sure what to say next.
The days after Jason found out I owned the house were tense. It wasn’t like before, where we’d laugh together while cooking or enjoy lazy evenings watching TV. He was distant and quieter, and something felt off. I didn’t want to push him, so I gave him space, hoping things would return to normal. But that didn’t happen.
One evening, I was cleaning up the kitchen when Jason walked in. He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching me.
“Still can’t believe you never told me,” he muttered, almost to himself.
I sighed, putting down the dish towel. “Jason, I wasn’t hiding it. It just didn’t seem important. You never asked.”
“Important?” He laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “You’re a landlord. That’s pretty important. Don’t you think I had a right to know?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but he cut me off.
“I thought we were on the same page. I thought we saw the world the same way, but now… now I don’t know. Landlords just… they take advantage of people.” His voice was tight, and he wouldn’t look at me.
“I’m not like that!” I said, stepping closer. “Maggie’s rent is fair, and I fix anything that breaks. I’m not some greedy landlord you see on TV.”
He shook his head. “But you’re still making money off someone else’s need for a home.”
I felt anger rising in my chest. “I don’t think you understand what I do. I’m not hurting anyone. I charge Maggie way less than the market rate. I take care of the place. I’m not some big landlord trying to exploit people.”
“But you still own it. And you still make money off her.”
“Yeah, to keep the house from falling apart! I’m not getting rich from this, Jason. You know that.”
He shook his head, standing up from the couch. “It’s all the same. It’s about power. You have something she needs, and you make her pay for it.”
The next morning, things came to a head. I was on the phone with Maggie, confirming she’d bought the new freezer and that I’d reimburse her. Jason walked in as I was finishing the call.
“So, you’re paying for that?” he asked, sarcasm thick in his voice.
“Yes,” I replied, keeping my tone steady. “The freezer was part of the apartment when she moved in. It’s my responsibility.”
He stared at me, frustration bubbling over. “Unbelievable.”
“Jason, I don’t know what you want from me,” I said, trying to stay calm. “What do you expect me to do?”
He folded his arms, his face hard. “I want you to stop being part of the problem. Either stop charging rent or give me half of what you’re making. If you’re gonna be a landlord, at least share the profits.”
I stared at him, stunned. “Share the profits? Jason, I’m not running a business here. The rent barely covers costs.”
“I don’t care,” he snapped. “You’re either with me, or you’re not. If you’re gonna keep profiting off people like that, then I deserve my share, too.”
Something in me broke then. “I’m not giving you half of anything. I’ve worked hard to keep this house running. If you think I’m going to start handing over money just because you don’t like how I manage it, then you’re out of your mind.”
Before I could respond, he grabbed the keys from the coffee table and threw them across the room. They hit the wall with a sharp clatter, and the next thing I knew, he swung his fist, aiming for the wall. The impact wasn’t strong enough to punch through, but it echoed in the room, sending a tremor through me.
“Fine!” he shouted, stepping back. His face was red, and he was breathing heavily. “I’m done. I’m not staying here, not with you.”
My hand shook as I reached for my phone. “Jason, stop,” I said, my voice trembling. “Just calm down.”
But he was already moving toward the door. I quickly typed a text to my dad: Please come now.
Jason didn’t turn around as he stormed out, slamming the door behind him. The house felt silent, suddenly too big and too empty. I stood there, still shaking, listening to the sound of his footsteps disappearing down the driveway.
Within minutes, I heard my dad’s car pulling up. He didn’t ask questions when he saw me on the porch, arms wrapped around myself. He just pulled me into a hug, holding me tight as I tried to catch my breath.
“He’s gone,” I whispered, still stunned by how quickly it had all fallen apart.
The next morning, I woke up to the sound of quiet knocking on my door. I still felt numb from the night before, Jason’s angry words echoing in my mind. I dragged myself to the door and opened it to see Maggie standing there with a small basket of freshly baked muffins.
“Hey, I heard about what happened,” she said softly. “I’m really sorry.”
I managed a weak smile, surprised she knew so quickly. “Thanks, Maggie. I’m okay.”
She handed me the basket. “I just wanted to bring these up. It’s nothing special, but I thought you could use something sweet.”
I took the basket, feeling warmth I hadn’t felt since Jason left. “You didn’t have to do that.
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