I moved into a new neighborhood, hoping to find new friends and the comfort of suburban life. However, no one was happy to see me. Citizens avoided me, and neighbors peeked at me behind their fences. One day, I discovered something that sent shivers down my spine. Could this be the real reason for their hostility?
I had just moved into a new house, rented through an agency, in a small suburb. It was a quaint little place with neat lawns and friendly-looking homes.
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I had hoped for a peaceful and friendly life, imagining neighbors stopping by to say hello and welcoming me to the community. But that didn’t happen.
From the first day, I noticed the cold shoulders. People didn’t greet me or even make eye contact. It was as if I was invisible. I tried not to let it bother me, but it was hard not to feel lonely.
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One sunny afternoon, I was watering the flowers in my front yard when I saw a little girl riding her bike down the street. She must have been around seven years old, with pigtails bouncing as she pedaled.
Suddenly, she lost control and fell off her bike right in front of my house.
“Oh no!” I exclaimed, rushing over to help her. “Are you okay, sweetie?”
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Before I could reach her, a woman—her mother, I assumed—came running over, yelling, “Get away from her!”
Startled, I stopped in my tracks. The mother grabbed the girl, her eyes wide with panic, and hugged her tightly.
“Are you hurt, Jenny? Did she touch you?” she asked frantically, looking at me like I was some kind of threat.
“I just wanted to help,” I said softly, feeling a lump in my throat.
The mother didn’t respond. She picked up her daughter and hurried away, leaving the bike behind.
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I stood there, confused and hurt. I noticed one of the neighbors, Jules, walking her dog near my house. She had seen the whole thing.
Jules was a peculiar woman. She always wore long skirts, and her eyes were painted with blue eyeshadow, her lips bright with pink lipstick. She was staring at me with an expression I couldn’t read.
“Good afternoon, Jules,” I called out, trying to sound cheerful.
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She didn’t reply. Instead, she clutched the leash of her small dog and quickly crossed to the other side of the road, muttering to herself.
“Why is everyone so unfriendly?” I whispered to myself. “Is it something I did?”
Back inside my house, I sat by the window, looking out at the empty street.
“Maybe they think I’m weird or something,” I murmured, trying to make sense of it all. “But they don’t even know me.”
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I picked up my journal and started writing.
“Day three in the new house. The neighbors are still avoiding me. Why are they treating me like this? I just want to fit in.”
Humming to myself, I closed the journal and looked around my empty living room. The house felt big and lonely.
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I walked on tiptoes to the kitchen, a habit of mine when I was nervous. I made myself a cup of tea and sat back down by the window, watching for any signs of friendliness.
“Maybe tomorrow will be different,” I said aloud, trying to stay hopeful.
But deep down, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was very wrong.
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***
Feeling lonely and unwanted, I decided to change the situation. I couldn’t just sit around hoping things would get better on their own. So, I decided to throw a party.
“Maybe they just need a chance to get to know me,” I thought.
I spent the whole day preparing. I cooked up a storm—salads, sandwiches, cookies, you name it. I even decorated the yard with fairy lights and colorful paper lanterns, hoping to create a warm and inviting atmosphere.
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As evening fell, I set up a table in the yard, arranging all the dishes neatly. I put on my favorite pink dress and tied a scarf around my wrist, humming a little tune to keep my spirits up.
“This will be great,” I told myself, trying to stay positive.
The clock struck six, the time I had mentioned in the invitations I had slipped into each neighbor’s mailbox.
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I waited, excitement and nerves battling inside me. But as the minutes ticked by, my excitement turned into anxiety.
An hour passed. Then another. The food lay untouched, the lanterns swayed gently in the evening breeze, and my heart sank. No one came. Not a single person.
Feeling despairing and close to tears, I began clearing the dishes.
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“What did I do wrong?” I whispered to myself.
Just as I was about to take the last tray inside, I heard a voice.
“Hey, need some help?”
I turned around to see Jacob standing at the gate, his usual charming smile on his face. He was dressed in tight jeans and a white T-shirt that showed off his muscles.
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I tried to smile back, though it felt forced. “Hi, Jacob. I was starting to think no one would come.”
He walked over, taking the tray from my hands.
“I’m sorry about that. There’s something you need to know.”
We sat down at the table, and Jacob looked into my eyes.
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“You see, the house you moved into has a bit of a reputation. The last woman who lived here had nothing but bad luck. Strange things kept happening, and then one day, she just disappeared. No one knows what happened to her.”
I felt a chill run down my spine. “That’s why everyone is avoiding me? Because of some old rumors?”
Jacob nodded. “People here are superstitious. Jules, especially is. She’s convinced there’s something wrong with this place. But I don’t believe in any of that. I’d be happy to have dinner with you.”
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I smiled, feeling a bit of relief. “Thank you, Jacob. I appreciate it.”
During the dinner, Jacob asked about my life, and I told him about my move and my hopes for a fresh start. He listened intently, offering kind words and compliments.
Before leaving, Jacob leaned in and whispered, “Just be careful around Mrs. Jules. She can be a bit off due to her superstitions.”
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I nodded, grateful for the company and the warning. There was more to this neighborhood than I had realized, and I was determined to uncover the truth.
***
The next day, after dinner with Jacob, I couldn’t shake off the unsettling feeling his words had left me with.
“I need to find out what’s happening,” I said to myself as I tiptoed around the house, my mind racing with thoughts.
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I decided to explore the attic. Maybe something there will give me answers.
I climbed up the creaky stairs. The attic was dusty and filled with old furniture, boxes, and cobwebs. As I rummaged through the clutter, I spotted an old, leather-bound diary.
Sitting down on a dusty trunk, I opened the diary. It belonged to the previous resident, and as I read, a chill ran down my spine.
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The woman had written about strange things happening around the house as soon as she moved in.
“Just like what’s happening to me,” I whispered, feeling connection to the previous tenant. “This can’t be a coincidence.”
Determined to find out more, I started paying closer attention to my surroundings. I also noticed strange occurrences.
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Every night, I heard eerie noises that seemed to echo through the neighborhood.
And every morning, the flowers in my garden were cut down. Moreover, a black cat appeared at my doorstep daily.
I eventually decided to keep the cat.
“At least you’re friendly,” I said, scratching behind its ears. I named him Snowball, despite his jet-black fur.
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Snowball quickly became my companion, and his presence brought me some comfort.
Jules, however, was always watching. She only left her house to walk her dog, but it seemed like she was also spying on the neighborhood, especially on me.
I often caught her peering out from behind her fence, her eyes following my every move.
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“Why is she always watching me?” I wondered aloud. “What does she think I’m going to do?”
That day, I decided enough was enough. I needed to know what was really happening. I dressed in dark clothes and tiptoed to the neighbor’s yard, hiding behind their fence. I waited, my heart pounding in my chest.
***
That night was dark and silent, with only the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze.
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“What am I even doing here?” I whispered to myself.
Suddenly, a shadow darted through my garden. My breath caught in my throat as I watched it move swiftly, almost too fast to follow.
Gathering my courage, I emerged from my hiding place and started to climb over the fence, hoping to catch whoever it was.
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Just as I swung my leg over, someone started screaming hysterically.
“Who’s there? Get away!”
It was Jules. She had seen me.
She turned on all the lights in her yard, flooding the darkness with harsh brightness. Neighbors began to gather, drawn by the commotion.
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Jules was muttering something about me trying to harm her, her voice trembling with fear.
“What’s going on?”
I heard someone shout as people from nearby streets came running with flashlights, and some even with rakes, ready to protect themselves.
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Everyone looked at me in shock and suspicion.
“She’s the one causing all the trouble!” Jules cried out, pointing at me with a shaky hand. “She’s trying to harm us all!”
I felt a wave of humiliation and frustration wash over me.
“Wait, please!” I called out, trying to make them understand. “Someone has been setting this all up. It’s not what it looks like!”
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One of the neighbors stepped forward, a stern look on his face.
“You need to leave,” he said firmly. “We can’t have this kind of disturbance here.”
“No, please listen!” I pleaded. “I can prove it. Someone is behind all of this, and it’s not me.”
I pointed to the paint in my yard and said, “I spilled paint under my fence earlier. The person who climbed into my yard will have paint on them. That’s how we’ll find out who’s behind this.”
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The neighbors looked skeptical but began inspecting each other’s clothing. Jules started muttering again, accusing me of lying and trying to deceive them.
I felt tears sting my eyes as the humiliation deepened. Just then, I noticed Jacob arriving, the last one to show up.
Someone shone a flashlight on him, and I gasped. His boots were covered in paint.
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“Jacob?” a neighbor exclaimed. “What’s going on?”
Jacob’s face turned pale as everyone started demanding explanations.
He shook his head and protested, “This is ridiculous! I have nothing to do with this. It’s just a coincidence.”
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The crowd wasn’t convinced. They started murmuring among themselves, and the tension grew. Finally, one of the neighbors, a burly man holding a rake, stepped forward.
“Enough of this nonsense, Jacob,” he said firmly. “Answer like a man or get out of here.”
Jacob’s eyes darted around, realizing he was cornered. He sighed heavily, the fight draining out of him.
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“Alright, alright,” he muttered. “It was me. I spread the rumors about the house and its residents to lower the price. I wanted to buy it cheaply.”
The crowd gasped in shock and disbelief. The truth was finally out. The neighbors, realizing the mistake they had made, turned to me.
“We’re sorry,” one of them said. “We didn’t know.”
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Another neighbor stepped forward and added, “We should have listened to you from the start.”
“Thank you,” I said, my voice shaking. “I just wanted to be part of this community.”
From that day on, everything changed. The neighbors began to support me. I made new friends and started to enjoy living in my house.
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Jacob, on the other hand, became a recluse. The shame of his actions isolated him, and he eventually sold his house and moved away.
As I looked around at my now-welcoming neighborhood, I felt a sense of belonging and peace.
“Appearances can be deceptive,” I whispered to myself. “Things aren’t always as they seem.”
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: I wanted to surprise my son by visiting his restaurant. I wore a simple, neat dress and ordered a modest cup of tea. Suddenly, an arrogant woman asked me to move, humiliating me by pointing out my attire as unsuitable for such a place. Feeling humiliated, I went home.
My Entitled Parents Demanded That I Give Them My New House — My In-Laws Suddenly Stood up for Me
When Carina’s parents kick her out after high school, she has no choice but to navigate her way around life. Years later, after making a success of her life, and her wedding is around the corner, she reaches out to them, only for them to storm into her life, trying to take ownership of what she has worked so hard for.
“Carina,” my mother said, opening a packet of biscuits. “You’re going to regret not going to medical school.”
“Mom,” I replied. “My brain doesn’t work like Jade’s; she’s the doctor in the family, not me.”
A packet of biscuits | Source: Midjourney
“I don’t see why it can’t be the both of you,” she sniffed, dunking a biscuit into her lukewarm tea. “Why do you even waste your time with computers? Those machines are not going to make your life comfortable.”
This wasn’t anything new. My parents hated that I loved computers, and when school was out in the next few months, I was going to be off to college, studying IT.
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“Who cares about cyber security, Carina?” my father asked while he sat down with a pork chop. “Saving people’s lives, honey. That’s what success is. Not playing on computers.”
“Cyber security is how your important details are protected, Dad,” I would always say, rolling my eyes. “It’s how countries keep their people safe.”
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“It’s not good enough,” my mother said from the sink.
After graduation, my parents made me leave the house.
“You’ve chosen this path,” my mother said when I bought my IT textbooks. “So you’re capable of taking care of yourself.”
A pile of books | Source: Midjourney
“I don’t think that’s fair, Mom,” I retaliated. “You let Jade live at home for her whole degree.”
“Yeah, well, she was learning how to save lives, Carina,” she said.
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Fast forward 13 years. I’ve got a successful career, a beautiful house, and the most caring fiancé, Mark, I could have ever asked for.
“Are you sure that I should invite my parents to the wedding?” I asked Mark as we took a walk one evening.
“Yes, darling,” he said, taking my hand. “Why wouldn’t you? I’m so proud of who you are and where you’ve come from. You’ve done all of this on your own.”
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“But they’ve been such horrible people, Mark. I mean, they kicked me out of their home when I got into college. I had to work as a dog groomer to make enough money to cover the rent for my tiny apartment,” I said.
“Yes, I understand that,” my fiancé said diplomatically. “But you’ve made it now. And you’ve made it without them. Look, honey. Our home is yours; it’s in your name, and I love that for us.”
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Eventually, I gave in. The excitement of our wedding planning made me realize that I was proud of myself and where I had come from.
“I did it without their support,” I told Mark as I fried bacon for us one morning. “So, I’m going to invite them.”
Mark smiled at me while he poured milk into his coffee.
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“Good, this is a big moment for us,” he said.
When my parents and sister arrived, they were stunned by my house. They assumed that I was renting a room of the house. Of course, they didn’t think that I was capable of something bigger and better than that.
A beautiful home with a large garden | Source: Midjourney
“Carina! You own this entire house?” my father asked, his eyes wide with disbelief.
“Yes, Dad,” I said, wheeling my mother’s suitcase in, they seemed to think that they were spending the night. “I worked hard for this.”
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“Wow, I didn’t expect this,” my sister said, looking around.
“So, I thought that we could do dinner at a restaurant tonight, and then come home for dessert and coffee. You guys can spend time with Mark and my in-laws.”
They were going to be over at any moment, the first meet and greet almost underway.
But that’s when the entitlement kicked in.
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My mother’s eyes narrowed as she scanned the living room, taking in my television and other things.
“You know, Carina,” she declared, her tone leaving no room for argument. “We deserve to live in comfort after all we’ve done for you.”
Then, she promptly sat down on the couch.
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“Mom, what are you talking about?” I was incredulous. “This is my home. I bought it with my own money. You did absolutely nothing for me after high school.”
“But we’re your parents,” she insisted. “We should live better than our children. It’s our right. It’s the only right thing.”
“You can’t be serious,” I said, my voice rising. “Jade still lives with you because you wanted to baby her after her night shifts. And me? You didn’t care. This isn’t my responsibility.”
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My father stepped in at this point, crossing his arms.
“After everything we’ve sacrificed for you, this is the least you can do.”
“Jade needs a place to stay, too,” my mother said.
“Jade is an adult,” I snapped. “She made her choice to live with you, just like I made my own.”
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I felt bad that I was speaking about Jade in this way, especially because she was sitting on the couch and looking at my plants.
But my sister had chosen my parents when they kicked me out. She barely kept in contact with me, only stopping to text me on my birthday or Christmas morning.
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At that moment, the door opened, and my future in-laws walked in. I had always been close to them, wanting to find parental figures in Mark’s parents.
“We’ve been hearing this entire conversation from outside,” Tom said.
“Carina’s achievements are hers,” my future mother-in-law, Carol, said firmly. “She’s worked hard for this, and she deserves every bit of it.”
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My mother turned to her, eyes blazing.
“Who the hell are you? We have rights to this house; she’s our daughter.”
Carol didn’t flinch; she stood with her arms folded, a smile playing across her face.
“Why did you remember that only now? Where have you been all these years? Being her parents doesn’t mean that you can take credit for her hard work. Carina has earned this.”
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My parents were stunned into silence, and Jade couldn’t even look up.
“Carina invited you to celebrate her wedding, to celebrate the union of her and our son. To join our families. She did not invite you to berate her and have her hard work claimed,” Tom said.
“She owes you nothing but respect because you raised her, but that doesn’t mean giving up her home,” Carol said.
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“But we’re her family,” my mother said, clearly not expecting this level of pushback.
“Only by blood,” Mark said, stepping into the house. “Family supports one another. They don’t tear you down. And that’s what you’ve done to Carina for years.”
“You should be so proud of your girl,” Carol continued. “She’s done so much for us. I am so proud of her. Tom, too. She’s the daughter that I wanted all along.”
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Mark found his way to me, wrapping his arm around my waist.
I looked at my parents, seeing the dawning realization on their faces.
“I love you, I do,” I said. “But this is my life, and you’ve only been in it again for five minutes, and you’re already demanding things of me. Is that fair? I’ve worked too hard to let anyone take that away from me.”
My father sighed heavily.
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“We didn’t mean to upset you,” he said.
“Then respect my choice,” I said gently. “Be present for my wedding, but after that, you can go your own way again.”
After the confrontation, my parents seemed to understand, if only a little.
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When we left to the restaurant, everyone was subdued, except for Mark and my in-laws. I didn’t see a point in canceling the dinner because of the confrontation.
We sat down to eat, everyone lost in their own thoughts while Carol made comments about seeing me in my dress.
“Mark, you’re in for such a treat. Carina looks beautiful in that dress,” she said, digging into her salmon.
I smiled at my future mother-in-law. I always knew that she loved me, but her comments of the day had truly made me realize just how much.
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I was lucky. I had gotten lucky with Mark, but even more so with his parents.
I watched as my mother’s face fell when Carol went on, talking about the dress fitting. But I didn’t have it in me to make her feel better.
After dinner, we left the restaurant, parting ways with my parents and sister.
“We’ll see you at the wedding,” my father said, getting into the car.
“Yes,” I said. “I’ll see you then.”
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Let’s see what happens at my wedding.
What would you have done?
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