When I got home from work, I found long blonde hair strands in my bed. The thing is, I have dark curly hair and live alone, with my boyfriend occasionally crashing over. Curious and unsettled, I checked the building’s CCTV footage and was shaken to the core when I learned whose blonde hair it was.
Ugh, Thursdays. They always drag on forever. And that evening was no different.
I practically crawled through the door after a brutal day of data entry, my brain fried and my feet screaming. All I wanted was a steaming mug of ginger tea and a good Netflix binge.
Slipping into my PJs, I pulled the covers back on autopilot. But then I froze. Right there, smack dab in the center of my white pillow, a single, glaring strand of blonde hair lay accusingly…
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My heart did a double take, then plummeted to my stomach. My hair? Dark brunette, almost black, the kind that disappears against a black sweater.
This? This was sunshine blonde, the kind that practically glowed under the dim light of my bedroom lamp.
Panic clawed at my throat. I live alone. Completely. Utterly. Alone. So where the heck did this come from?
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Suddenly, a million questions swarmed my head… a tangled mess of “whys” and “hows.”
Was there someone in my apartment? Had there been a break-in? Or worse… was there someone I didn’t know? Someone who shouldn’t have been here, sharing my bed?
I glanced at the hair again, feeling more puzzled than ever. I needed answers.
“Who could it be?” I muttered to myself, my mind racing with possibilities as I stared at my bed.
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Alright, so maybe one blonde hair wasn’t a big deal. I thought maybe it could’ve snagged on something, but then… there were more. Like, creepy amounts scattered across my bed like tiny blonde soldiers.
This was officially WEIRD.
“Mission: Mystery Hair” began with questioning my boyfriend, Shawn, who occasionally crashes at my place. I presented him with the evidence: a clump of blonde strands on display like a crime scene photo.
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“Yo Boo Bear,” I said, holding up the hair CSI style. “What’s this all about?”
Shawn’s eyes almost popped out of his head. “Whose are those?!”
“That’s the million dollar question, babe,” I said, my voice maybe a smidge shaky. “You know anyone with questionable blonde highlights?”
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He furrowed his brow, looking like a betrayed puppy. “What the hell? Are you seriously accusing me of bringing someone over here, Evie?”
Ugh, no! That’s not what I meant AT ALL and stammered, “No, no, of course not! But these hairs didn’t magically appear during a blonde fairy convention, you know! Just trying to figure things out.”
Shawn crossed his arms, looking like a thunderstorm was brewing. “So you DO think I’m cheating? Seriously??”
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“Ugh, baby, NO! It’s about the freaking hair, not some big betrayal narrative!” I tried to keep it cool, but I swear my voice was doing that high-pitched dolphin thing.
He scoffed. “Sounds like you trust me about as much as a fly-by-night politician. Maybe I should just bounce if that’s how you feel.”
And BOOM! There it goes. Nuclear meltdown engaged. “Hold up, Shawn! Don’t go all nuclear just yet!” I ran after him.
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“Wait a minute,” I pleaded, trying to defuse the situation faster than a bomb squad. “These sheets were fresh outta the dryer this morning, and my girlfriends haven’t darkened my doorstep in ages.”
Shawn threw his hands up like, “What am I supposed to do with this?!”
“So what, Evie?” he barked. “You think I’m sneaking some secret lady friend in here while you’re at work? Come on, that’s crazy talk.”
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Shucks, NO. Not what I was saying! “No, no, not at all! Just…these hairs didn’t materialize out of thin air, you know? Trying to get some logic here,” I reasoned.
But Shawn’s face had gone full on an ice cube tray.
“Alright, you know what?” he sighed. “I see where this is going.” He dug into his pocket and yanked out my spare key like a magician revealing a dove. “Here, take these. I ain’t setting foot back in here until you trust me again.”
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Before I could sputter out a protest, he stormed out, slamming the door like a dramatic movie exit.
I raced to the hallway, spare keys clutched in my hand, but by the time I reached the elevator doors, Shawn already vanished.
Defeated and totally bummed, I stood there feeling like a kicked puppy.
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This can’t be the end, right? There had to be a reason for the rogue blonde strands, and I wasn’t giving up that easily. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Time to Sherlock Holmes this situation.
“Alright, Operation: Mystery Hair, Phase Two!” I muttered to myself.
Being nice to the building manager, Mr. Hills, finally paid off. A little friendly persuasion later, and I was staring at security footage the guard played, my heart hammering in my chest.
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Every second I expected to see Shawn sneaking in some blonde bombshell. But what I saw next threw me for a loop.
A woman. With long, blonde hair. A MAINTENANCE WORKER, to be exact, casually strolling into my apartment during the day.
Whaaaat? Confused and mind blown, I turned to Mr. Hills and blurted out, “Mr. Hills… who is that?”
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Mr. Hills peered intently at the footage. “Ah, that’s Vanessa,” he said, finally recognizing the blonde mystery woman. “One of our newer maintenance workers. You did have a scheduled maintenance appointment for your unit today, if I recall correctly.”
My eyes widened like saucers. “Scheduled maintenance? Hold up, no one told me about any maintenance!”
Mr. Hills sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, you’re right there. That’s a total protocol violation. She absolutely should’ve given you a heads-up.”
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Livid doesn’t even begin to cover it. Vanessa was about to get a serious earful.
The next day, I practically stalked back to my apartment. And lo and behold, there she was – Vanessa, lingering in the hallway. This time, I wasn’t holding back.
“Hey, lady!” I boomed, channeling my inner drill sergeant. “What in the world were you doing in my apartment yesterday without a word? Scheduled maintenance or not, you can’t just waltz in like you own the place!”
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Vanessa’s face drained of color faster than a dropped phone case. Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over.
Before I could unleash another verbal missile, she completely broke down, tears flowing freely. Sniffling and wiping her nose, she finally confessed.
“Ms. Hart, I’m so sorry,” she choked out. “They made me do it! Mr. Fraser, my creepy supervisor, he’s running some shady surveillance operation.”
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My jaw practically hit the floor. “Surveillance operation? Like, spying on tenants?” I gasped.
Vanessa nodded, wiping away fresh tears. “He made me install hidden cameras and listening devices in people’s apartments! He threatened to fire me if I didn’t do it!”
A cold dread crept down my spine. “Oh my gosh, so he’s been spying on everyone? But for what??” This was snowballing way out of control.
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Vanessa’s voice trembled as she confessed, “He uses that information to blackmail tenants and for other creepy stuff. This is messed up!”
Furious doesn’t even cut it. This Mr. Fraser guy needed to be exposed ASAP. “We can’t let him get away with this!” I declared through gritted teeth.
Seeing how scared Vanessa was, I ushered her into my apartment. She was practically vibrating with stress, poor girl. Once inside, she unloaded even more info.
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“Ms. Hart, I was so desperate,” she whispered. “But I finally have a way out. Been waiting for the perfect moment, and this is it.”
She whipped out her phone, and my eyes nearly bugged out of my head.
A video. Mr. Fraser, in all his creepy glory, laying out his illegal surveillance scheme and basically admitting to everything. My jaw practically reached the floorboards.
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“And that’s not all!” Vanessa continued. “I kept copies of the logs every single time, every apartment I was forced to bug. Proof I was just following orders from Psycho Pete over there.”
Relief washed over me, mixed with a healthy dose of “let’s take this jerk down” determination. “Vanessa, this is gold! This is exactly what we need to nail him good.”
Then, it hit me. The blonde hair.
“Wait a minute,” I exclaimed, confused. “How did your hair end up in my bed?”
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Vanessa flushed a bright red, looking like she wanted to crawl under the rug.
“Alright, so during one of these ‘install the hidden camera of doom’ missions,” she stammered, “I heard someone coming and had to hide, like, NOW. Ended up diving into your bedroom, and… well, let’s just say I might have used your bed as a human shield for a hot second. Stress makes my hair fall out like crazy, so…” she trailed off sheepishly.
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This whole thing was straight-up bananas. So, the million-dollar question burning a hole in my mind: “Why didn’t you just take this evidence to the cops or tell Mr. Hills about Psycho Pete in the first place?”
Vanessa let out a defeated sigh. “Mr. Fraser’s a master manipulator,” she explained. “He knows how to play the innocent card like nobody’s business. I kept the evidence hidden, just in case things got hairy.”
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Yeah, hairy indeed. But you know what? She wasn’t wrong. This whole situation had been stressing her out like crazy, and I could tell it was a huge weight off her shoulders to finally come clean.
“Hey, Vanessa,” I reassured her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You did the right thing. Now, let’s get all this evidence together and march down to the police station. They’ll put a stop to Mr. Fraser’s little spy game, fast.”
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For the next few hours, it was Operation: Evidence Roundup. Video footage, those creepy logs, and every detail Vanessa could remember about her interactions with Mr. Fraser, we compiled it all.
At the police station that very evening, we laid it all out.
The officers listened intently, expressions growing grimmer by the second with every piece of evidence we presented. An investigation was launched faster than you can say “illegal surveillance.”
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Let me tell you, the following weeks were wild. Turns out, Mr. Fraser’s operation was way bigger than a two-bit apartment scheme.
There were other employees involved, a whole tangled web of corruption! Thankfully, the evidence Vanessa risked everything to collect helped the authorities unravel the entire mess.
Eventually, Vanessa walked away scot-free. The tenants’ association even nominated me for an award for helping expose this whole thing! Who knew a few strands of stray blonde hair could lead down such a crazy rabbit hole?
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Here’s the thing, though: I totally dropped the ball with Shawn. Jumping to conclusions wasn’t exactly my finest moment.
The stress got the better of me, and hindsight is 20/20, right? Looking back, I wish things could have been different, but hey, you learn from your mistakes.
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But in the end, this whole ordeal gave me a new appreciation for my gut instincts. Sure, I may have been wrong about Shawn, but trusting my instincts enough to see something fishy was going on? Turns out, that was the right call.
Plus, I gained a new friend in Vanessa (seriously, the coolest maintenance worker ever!), earned the trust of my neighbors, and helped shut down a criminal operation. Not a bad haul, right?
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So yeah, that’s my wild story. A rollercoaster of emotions, a messy breakup (oops!), and enough drama to fill a daytime soap opera.
But hey, at least I can move forward knowing I did the right thing. Now, onto bigger and better things! Maybe even patching things up with Shawn… that is, if he’ll ever take my calls again.
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After Mom’s Death, Woman Leaves Sister 3 Dollar Bills and a Note as Her Inheritance – Story of the Day
When Julia and Helga’s father passed away, Helga fought their mother, Mrs. Hanson, for the inheritance. She said some horrible things, and Julie and Mrs. Hanson came up with a shocking plan to teach her a huge lesson.
“HOW DARE YOU?” Helga screamed at her mother, Mrs. Hanson, over the phone. Julia heard the entire thing from the kitchen, even though her mother was using the telephone in the living room and it wasn’t on speakerphone. Julia’s sister was angry that her mother had decided her will.
She would leave Helga 30% of the estate, while Julia would receive everything else. It wasn’t an equal division, but Mrs. Hanson felt that Julia deserved the money more than Helga because they had a better relationship. Helga and her husband had always been greedy and selfish, visiting or calling them only when they wanted something.
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But the older woman was being generous. At first, Helga would not receive anything due to how she spoke to her mother. However, they recently had a set of twin babies at a relatively old age, as Helga was 47 and her husband was 51. Therefore, Mrs. Hanson decided to give her something. Unfortunately, Helga was not happy about it.
“Helga, please don’t yell,” Mrs. Hanson told her daughter on the phone and watched as Julia approached. She decided to put the call on speakerphone from then on.
“I knew you would see reason, Julia. Our mother was so obstinate.”
“MOTHER! You can’t just give everything to Julia! She doesn’t even have children. Don’t you care about the twins? They deserve their share of the money!” Helga exclaimed, not knowing that Julia was listening.
“Helga, it doesn’t matter whether Julia has kids or not. She sacrificed so much of her life to take care of your father and me, whereas you didn’t. Also, you’re married. You have a support system. On the other hand, this is my money, and I get to decide who receives it,” Mrs. Hanson reasoned. But this wasn’t the answer Helga wanted.
“I DON’T CARE WHAT JULIA HAS DONE! YOU KNOW WHAT? I CAN’T WAIT FOR YOU TO DIE, AND I’LL SUE FOR MY SHARE! GOODBYE!” Helga screamed spitefully and ended the call abruptly.
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Mrs. Hanson placed her forehead on her hand and breathed deeply. Julia was finally angry, but she couldn’t show it. She couldn’t believe her sister would say something so horrible to their mother.
“Mom, she’s just angry. She didn’t mean that,” lied Julia to console her mother, but Mrs. Hanson knew the truth. Helga meant it and would fight tooth and nail for a more significant share in the will. Luckily, their lawyer in Washington D.C. told them that as long as Helga received something, she wouldn’t be able to contest it.
Over the next few months, Helga called several times to persuade Mrs. Hanson to change her will. These conversations always ended in huge fights that took a serious toll on the older woman, and Julia became even angrier at her sister.
Finally, their mother died, and Helga made a scene at the funeral, pretending to be in so much distress over her passing. Fortunately, most relatives knew her real character, although they didn’t know how awful she had been during the last few months of Mrs. Hanson’s life.
After the funeral, Helga started calling Julia about the money. They both received their share, but it seemed like her sister was now going to be nasty to Julia until she complied and gave her some more money.
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Finally, Julia came up with a plan. During one phone call, she revealed her idea to Helga. “Ok, listen. I want to move to New York, so I’m going to sell Mom’s house for good. I’ll give you 50% of the sale, although the house is in my name. Does this seem fair?” she asked her sister.
“Oh, that’s fantastic, Julia! Thank you! I knew you would see reason. Our mother was so obstinate. You’re the best aunt to the twins ever. I swear this is all for their future,” Helga gushed over the phone. Julia didn’t know if she was genuinely planning on putting the money towards her children, but it didn’t matter because Julia was lying.
The sale of the house went quickly because it was located in a pretty great area of the capital, and there were tons of buyers. Helga was salivating at the idea of receiving half of the house sale. Julia thought she didn’t deserve it at all.
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“Ok, I’m going to place your part of the money in a bank account, and I’ll send you the details later. Is that alright?” Julia asked her sister when they had coffee right before she left for New York.
“Of course! Of course! Though, I’m going to miss you so much!” Helga said with a smile that Julia didn’t trust at all.
“Cool, well, goodbye,” Julia replied, standing up and giving her sister the most awkward hug in the world. But Helga placed all her acting chops on the embrace, pretending like she was indeed going to miss her sister.
A week after Julia left the state, she finally sent her sister the details to the safety deposit box.
“Your sister couldn’t just wire the money to our account?” Helga’s husband asked, thinking this procedure odd.
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“She’s an idiot. You know that. I’ll go to the bank right now and check things out,” Helga responded, smiling cattily.
But at the bank, she was taken to the safety deposit box and saw three $1 bills inside it. “That’s all?” she asked aloud and finally noticed the note inside next to the bills. It read: “That’s all you deserve.”
Helga’s screams and cries were heard through the entire bank that day. But Julia had blocked her, and they never saw each other again.
What can we learn from this story?
- Greediness leads to nothing. Helga treated everyone horribly and only wanted money. She received nothing in the end.
- Follow your relative’s wishes. Although Helga pestered her terribly, Julia didn’t want to go against her mother’s desires.
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