My Halloween decorations kept getting stolen and ruined, but my world was turned upside down when I discovered who was behind it

I had just moved to a new town, hoping for a fresh start, but my neighbor Catherine made sure to ruin everything. She complained constantly and even stole my Halloween decorations. Determined to catch her in the act and get revenge, I set up a camera. What I discovered was far more shocking than I ever expected.

I had just finished setting up the Halloween decorations at my new house, feeling a little proud of how it all looked. Orange pumpkins, spider webs, and cute ghosts lined the front yard, ready for the kids who would come trick-or-treating.

It felt good to be settled after moving to this town just a month ago. My job was great, the house was cozy, and the town itself seemed charming—except for one thing: my neighbors.

Since the day I moved in, it felt like they had it out for me. It started with small things—comments about where I parked or how I didn’t trim my bushes the “right way.”

They would glance at me disapprovingly if I said “hi” in a way they didn’t like. It didn’t take long for the hostility to grow. One evening, they even called the police because I had my music on—at 7 p.m.! I couldn’t believe it.

The worst of them all was Catherine, who lived across the street. She was relentless, always coming over to complain about something. Once, she even stole my flowerpots, claiming they “didn’t fit the neighborhood vibe.”

I was beyond frustrated. Still, as I looked at my newly decorated house, I hoped at least this would be left alone. Just one thing that could bring some joy.

I’ve loved Halloween for as long as I can remember. It wasn’t just about the decorations or the candy; it reminded me of simpler times, warm childhood memories.

But this year, it felt different—darker. There was a hole in my heart where my dreams of having children used to be. It hurt to know I’d never create those special memories for my own kids.

Halloween, though, allowed me to heal a little, one bag of candy at a time. I poured it into a pumpkin, setting it out for the kids, and went inside, hoping for the best.

The next morning, my heart sank. All my decorations were gone. The only pumpkin left had been smashed, and the candy stolen. Tears welled up as I covered my mouth, overwhelmed by frustration and sadness. This was too much. I wasn’t going to let it slide. I knew who had done it, and I was determined to make her pay!

I stormed across the street and pounded on Catherine’s door, my anger bubbling over.

“Catherine! Open up! You’re a real witch!” I shouted, not caring who else heard.

After a few moments, the door flew open, and there she was, glaring at me.

“Have you lost your mind?” she yelled, hands on her hips.

“What did you do with my decorations?” I demanded, my voice shaking with fury.

“I didn’t touch your stupid decorations! Though they looked awful, if you ask me!” she shot back. “But I’m not ruining Halloween for the kids.”

“Just like you didn’t steal my flowerpots?” I screamed, stepping closer.

“Maeve, you’re crazy! You have no proof it was me!” she shouted, her face red. Then, with a loud slam, she shut the door in my face.

I stood there, shaking. “Witch!” I yelled at the closed door.

As I stood there, I realized that some of the neighbors had come outside, watching the whole scene. Their curious eyes were fixed on me, and I could already imagine the whispers behind my back.

They probably thought I was the crazy one now. I just wanted to do something nice for Halloween, and it had all been ruined. My throat tightened, and I could feel the tears building up again. Without another word, I turned and walked back home, my chest heavy with sobs.

Inside, I sat down, wiping my eyes. I couldn’t let this go. Halloween meant too much to me. I refused to let Catherine or anyone else destroy it. That evening, I made up my mind.

I went to the store, buying new decorations and candy. When I finished putting everything back up, I carefully placed a small camera among the decorations. This time, if she messed with them, I would have proof.

In the middle of the night, I woke up to a strange noise. My heart raced as I looked out the window. All my decorations were gone. Again. Anger bubbled up inside me as I quickly threw on my slippers and rushed outside.

The cool night air hit my face as I ran to grab the camera I had set up earlier. This time, I was sure I would catch Catherine in the act.

I hurried back inside and turned on the video. My eyes narrowed, ready to see Catherine, but to my shock, it wasn’t her. Instead, it was a boy—no older than 12—taking my decorations and candy. I stared at the screen, confused. I didn’t recognize him from the neighborhood.

Without thinking, I grabbed my coat and followed the direction the boy had gone. I passed house after house, but none of them seemed like his home.

I knew all the local kids, and he wasn’t one of them. Finally, I found myself standing in front of an old, abandoned house. A strange feeling came over me, urging me to go in.

Inside, it was dark and cold, the air damp and heavy. I pulled my cardigan tighter, my steps careful on the creaky wooden floors. Suddenly, I saw a faint light coming from a room. I walked in and froze.

There, huddled together, were two children—the boy from the video and a little girl, barely four years old. They were trembling, surrounded by my Halloween decorations.

“Please, don’t turn us in to the police!” the boy cried, his voice shaking. “My sister loves Halloween, but we don’t have any money. I didn’t want to steal, I swear! You just had the best decorations,” he said, his eyes wide with fear.

I stood there, staring at them. Two small kids in this awful, broken house. They looked so scared, and to be honest, I was scared too. The decorations didn’t matter anymore.

“Why are you here? Where are your parents?” I asked.

“We don’t have any,” the boy replied. “We ran away from our foster parents because they weren’t treating us right.”

I knelt down to their level, trying to understand. “What are your names?”

“I’m David, and this is my sister, Nicole,” he said, putting his arm around the little girl.

“My name is Maeve,” I told them, trying to sound reassuring. “You can’t stay here. It’s too cold. Come with me.”

David looked up at me, fear in his eyes. “Are you going to call the police?”

I shook my head. “No. I’m going to take you home,” I said, reaching out my hands to them both.

David and Nicole had been staying with me for several days now, and during that time, I had learned more about them through social services. It broke my heart to hear that their foster parents hadn’t even reported them missing.

How could anyone just forget about two children? I knew right then that there was no way they could go back. So, I filed the paperwork for temporary custody.

It was a bit of a process, but the social worker said the kids could stay with me even while we waited for everything to go through. That was a relief—I wasn’t ready to let them go.

The kids were amazing. At first, Nicole was so quiet, barely saying a word. She would just sit by herself, hugging her little stuffed bunny. But as the days went by, I saw her slowly start to relax.

She began to smile, laugh, and even talk a little. David, too, seemed happier. He helped me around the house, always asking if there was anything he could do.

Having them there made the house feel different—warmer, more alive. I hadn’t realized how empty it had felt before. It was as if David and Nicole had always been a part of my life.

In the evenings, I would read them bedtime stories. Every time, I felt tears welling up. I never thought my dream of having children would come true in such an unexpected way. But here we were, and it felt right.

On Halloween night, there was a knock at the door. Expecting trick-or-treaters, I smiled as I opened it, but instead of kids in costumes, I saw two police officers standing there.

“Can I help you, officers?” I asked, feeling my stomach drop a little.

“Your neighbor reported some strange screaming coming from your house,” one of the officers said. I followed his gaze across the street, where Catherine stood, arms crossed and a smug grin on her face. Of course, it was her.

Just then, a loud shout echoed from inside my house. I smiled sheepishly. “Oh, that. I’m showing the kids a scary movie for Halloween. You know, something fun for the night,” I explained, stepping aside. “Would you like to come in and check?”

The officers nodded and followed me inside. As we walked into the living room, one of them asked, “Are these your children?”

“Yes,” I said, the word slipping out naturally. “These are my children.”

It was the first time I had said it, but I realized it was true. In such a short time, they had become my family. I couldn’t imagine my life without them now.

The officers glanced at David and Nicole, who were sitting on the couch, eyes wide as they watched the scary movie. Every so often, they would pull the blanket over their heads, then peek out again.

The officers smiled, clearly seeing there was nothing wrong. “Have a good evening, ma’am,” they said, heading out the door.

As they walked out, I stepped onto the porch and waved at Catherine, who was still watching from across the street.

She looked furious, her face red with frustration. With a loud huff, she stomped her foot and marched back inside. I couldn’t help but smile to myself.

The next morning, I did what I had been thinking about for days—I applied to adopt David and Nicole. From that point on, I never spent another holiday alone. Every day was filled with laughter, love, and the warmth of family. I finally had what I had always dreamed of: I could call myself “Mom.”

My MIL Made Me Sleep on the Garage Floor After My Husband Died – She Didn’t Expect to Beg for My Help a Month Later

When April’s husband dies, she loses more than just the love of her life. She loses her home. Forced to sleep in the garage while her cruel mother-in-law, Judith, takes everything, April has no choice but to endure. But when Judith falls gravely ill, she comes begging for help. Will April choose revenge… or forgiveness?

I used to believe that love could protect me from anything. That my husband, James, would always be there to catch me if I fell.

When he asked me to leave my career in finance to be a stay-at-home mom, he promised I’d never have to worry about anything. I loved him, so I agreed.

A woman sitting on a porch | Source: Midjourney

We had twin baby girls, Grace and Ella, who became our entire world.

And then, he died.

The call came on a gray afternoon. James had been rushing home from a business trip, eager to see us. The roads were slick, and his car skidded off the highway. The officer on the phone kept talking, saying things like instant impact and no suffering.

But all I heard was the sound of my own heartbeat thudding in my ears.

A car crash scene | Source: Midjourney

The days blurred. The funeral came and went. I clung to my daughters, to the last voicemail James had left me, replaying it just to hear his voice.

I thought losing him was the worst thing that could ever happen to me.

I was wrong.

I had spent hours at the cemetery after the funeral. I had just wanted a few more moments with my husband before I went back to reality.

A woman standing in a cemetery | Source: Midjourney

Judith, my mother-in-law, had taken the girls home.

“We’ll talk when you get back,” she said. “I’ll get the twins bathed and settled in.”

When I returned home from the funeral, Judith was waiting for me.

She sat in the living room, her back straight, hands folded in her lap, staring at me with that same cold, calculated look she always had.

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

“This house belongs to me, April,” she said. “I let James and you live here, but now, I’m taking it back.”

My breath caught. I felt like someone had just pushed me.

“Judith, I…”

I thought I misheard her.

“What?”

She exhaled sharply, as if already bored of the conversation.

An upset woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

“James never changed the deed,” she said. “I gave him the option after the twins were born, but he never followed through. So the house is still in my name. You can stay. But you’ll sleep in the garage.”

I stared at her, searching for a flicker of humanity. Some sign that she was speaking out in grief, that she would take it back any second now.

But she didn’t.

She just sat there, waiting for me to break.

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

She wanted me to beg her. I knew she did.

I looked at my daughters, their big, innocent, and sleepy eyes watching me from the couch. They had already lost their father. I couldn’t let them lose their home, too.

So, I agreed.

Twin girls sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

The garage smelled like oil and rust. At night, the cold crept through the thin camping mat and duvet I slept on. The cold seeped into my bones every night. When it got too unbearable, I curled up in the backseat of the car, my arms wrapped around myself for warmth.

I told myself it was temporary.

James had left money for us, but legal things took time. And I just had to be patient. Because until the lawyer finalized everything, I had nothing.

The interior of a garage | Source: Midjourney

No job, no access to our accounts, nowhere to go.

And even if I had someone to call, I couldn’t imagine saying the words out loud. The shame would have choked me.

I existed in silence. I only stepped into the house to cook and eat with the girls. To do their laundry and kiss them goodnight. I moved around my own home like a stranger.

A woman in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

Now, even a month later, Judith barely acknowledged me. Why would she, anyway? She had won.

One afternoon, I was sitting in the living room with my girls. The crayons rolled across the coffee table, scattering in every direction. Grace and Ella sat cross-legged on the floor, their tiny hands gripping their colors of choice, faces scrunched in deep concentration.

“I’m drawing Daddy’s eyes blue!” Grace said, pressing hard into the paper. “Like the ocean.”

Crayons on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney

Ella tilted her head, studying her drawing.

“Mine is smiling. Daddy always smiled,” she said, a smile creeping onto her face.

I swallowed past the lump in my throat.

“He did,” I murmured.

Smiling little girls | Source: Midjourney

The air felt thick, heavy with the weight of unspoken things. The only sounds were the scratch of crayon against the paper and the occasional shuffle of tiny feet against the rug.

I ran my fingers along the edge of a blank sheet, willing myself to keep it together.

Then, Ella spoke.

“Mommy?”

I looked up.

“Yeah, baby? What’s wrong?”

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

She hesitated, chewing her bottom lip.

“Why do you sleep in the garage?”

My hands stilled.

Grace looked up too, her expression open and trusting. It was the same expression James would have on his face when he wanted the girls to tell him about their nightmares.

A sad little girl | Source: Midjourney

“Yeah,” she said. “Grandma sleeps in your bed. Why don’t you sleep there?”

A sharp, twisting pain settled in my chest.

I forced a smile, tucking a strand of hair behind Ella’s ear.

“Because sometimes grown-ups have to make hard decisions, baby girls. It’s not always nice, but there’s always a bigger reason.”

A close up of a little girl | Source: Midjourney

Ella frowned. I could see thoughts formulating in her head.

“But you’re Daddy’s wife,” she said simply.

The words knocked the air from my lungs.

“I am,” I whispered. “I am Daddy’s wife, yes.”

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

Grace blinked up at me, waiting. I hadn’t realized that my girls were holding onto these thoughts.

“Then why doesn’t Grandma get the big bed?”

I opened my mouth, but no words came.

A creak sounded from the hallway. I glanced up, and there, just beyond the corner…

An older woman standing in a hallway | Source: Midjourney

Stood Judith.

She wasn’t watching me. She was watching them.

Her hands gripped the doorframe, her face pale, her lips pressed into a thin line. For the first time, she looked like a woman who had made a terrible mistake.

But she didn’t say a word.

She just stood there, listening. And when I didn’t answer my daughters, she turned and walked away.

A woman walking down a hallway | Source: Midjourney

And then, one night, there was a knock at the garage door. I opened it to find Judith standing there.

But she wasn’t the same woman who had banished me. For the first time in a long time, I looked at her.

Her usually pristine hair was unkempt, the gray streaks more pronounced. Her face, always so rigid with control, was pale and sunken. Her lips were dry and cracked.

And her hands… her hands trembled uncontrollably.

A woman standing in front of a door | Source: Midjourney

I frowned.

Had she always been this thin? I cooked every day, making sure that there was more than enough food for all four of us. Had Judith not been eating?

She swallowed hard, and when she spoke, her voice cracked.

“April, please.”

I said nothing.

A woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

She blinked rapidly, as if trying to hold back tears.

“I made a terrible mistake.”

I waited.

She exhaled shakily, then whispered.

“I’m sick…” she said.

A close up of an older woman | Source: Midjourney

Her lips pressed together, and for the first time, I saw something I had never seen in her before.

Fear.

I should’ve felt vindicated. I should have relished the moment she stood before me, desperate and vulnerable. But all I felt was exhaustion.

“What do you want?” I asked, my voice hollow.

Her hands tightened into fists at her sides.

A close up of a woman wearing a robe | Source: Midjourney

“The doctors say it’s bad. And I can’t stop thinking that maybe… maybe this is my punishment.”

I crossed my arms. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“For what? For throwing your widowed daughter-in-law into a garage?”

She flinched, as if I had slapped her.

A close up of an older woman | Source: Midjourney

“For everything, April. For the way I treated you, darling. For the way I pushed people away.”

Silence stretched between us.

Then, she reached into her coat and pulled out a stack of papers.

“I transferred the house to you and the girls, April,” she said. “It’s yours now. Officially. As it always should have been.”

“Why?” My stomach clenched.

A woman holding a stack of paperwork | Source: Midjourney

“Because I have no one else.”

I stared at the papers in my hands. This is what I had been waiting for, proof that I never had to beg. That I never had to fear being thrown away again.

But Judith’s face was lined with regret. And in that moment, I saw her not as my personal tormentor but as a woman who had finally realized the weight of her own cruelty.

A woman holding a stack of paperwork | Source: Midjourney

I stepped inside.

“Come inside,” I said.

Her breath hitched.

“Oh, it’s cold in here,” she said.

“I know, but you get used to it,” I replied.

For the first time, the woman who had once looked at me like I was nothing let herself cry.

A woman standing inside a garage | Source: Midjourney

The guest room still didn’t feel like hers. I could see it. The way she moved around it, like a stranger, making sure that everything was in the exact same spot it had been.

Judith sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, hands folded in her lap, staring at the cup of tea I had placed on the nightstand.

The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast shadows across her face, making her look small somehow.

The interior of a guest bedroom | Source: Midjourney

It was the first night since I had moved back into the house, with Judith moving into the guest room. Everything felt… strange.

And I wasn’t sure how I felt to be in the same room that James and I had shared for so long. But I was just grateful to be back inside.

Now, I sat across from Judith, pulling my legs up onto the chair, cradling my own mug between my hands.

An older woman sitting on a bed | Source: Midjourney

The silence stretched, thick and uneasy but not hostile.

She was the one who broke it.

“I have cancer,” she said quietly. “Stage three.”

I exhaled slowly. We both knew it was serious, but hearing the words still sent a strange, sinking feeling through my chest.

A woman sitting on an armchair | Source: Midjourney

“I don’t know what’s going to happen next,” she admitted.

Her hands trembled slightly as she traced the rim of her mug.

“I’m scared, April.”

“I know,” I said, nodding. “You’re not alone, though, Judith. I’m here. The twins are here for cuddles and laughs.”

“I don’t deserve you… after everything…”

A women sitting on a bed | Source: Midjourney

“Probably not,” I said, cutting her off before she could spiral into guilt. “But Grace and Ella love you. And whether you like it or not, you’re part of this family.”

Her throat bobbed, and she let out a shaky breath.

“James would want us to take care of each other.”

“Yeah,” I replied. “He would.”

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

Judith exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over her face.

“God, I’m going to be eating so much damn soup, aren’t I?”

I snorted.

“Oh, absolutely! Soup, herbal tea, all the nutritious food you never wanted to touch before.”

A bowl of soup | Source: Midjourney

She made a face.

“Can’t we just pretend wine is medicinal?”

I laughed, and to my surprise, Judith laughed too.

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t easy. But in that moment, I knew we were going to be okay.

A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney

Because despite everything, we were family.

After that, I took Judith to every doctor appointment possible. I wanted to get back to work, but I figured that this was more important for the moment.

We had the money that James left behind, and we would use it until I got back into action.

A woman driving a car | Source: Midjourney

The doctor’s office smelled sterile, the antiseptic strong. Judith sat beside me, hands folded tightly in her lap, her knuckles bone-white.

Dr. Patel, a man in his fifties with kind eyes, adjusted his glasses and flipped through Judith’s chart.

“The biopsy confirms it’s stage three,” he said gently. “We need to start treatment as soon as possible. Chemo, radiation… It won’t be easy, but it’s still treatable.”