When Rachel found a cozy room rented by a sweet old lady, it seemed like a perfect escape from her struggles. But beneath the floral wallpaper and warm smiles, something far darker was lurking… something that made her pack her bags the very next morning.
When you’re desperate, you cling to anything that feels like hope. That’s where I was — my little brother’s medical bills towering over me, full-time classes pushing me to my limits, and late-night waitressing draining what little energy I had left.
When I got into a university in a new city, I should’ve been ecstatic, but the reality of finding affordable housing made it hard to celebrate. So when I stumbled across a listing for a cozy room in a sweet old lady’s house, it felt like a lifeline.
A hopeful woman holding a cellphone | Source: Midjourney
The rent was ridiculously low, and the photos showed a charming little place with floral wallpaper and vintage furniture. The ad said: “Perfect for a quiet, respectful female tenant. No pets, no smoking.”
It was ideal.
When I arrived there, my landlord Mrs. Wilkins greeted me at the door with a warm smile and a smell of fresh lavender lingering in the air. Her hair was neatly pinned back, and she looked like someone who should’ve been knitting by a fireplace, not renting rooms to struggling students.
“Oh, you must be Rachel,” she said, ushering me inside. “You’re even lovelier than I imagined. Come in, dear, come in!”
An older lady smiling | Source: Midjourney
Her eyes seemed to linger a bit too long, scanning me from head to toe. “Tell me about your family, dear,” she said, her voice honey-sweet. “Any siblings?”
“My little brother Tommy,” I replied. “He’s staying with our widowed aunt while I’m here. She helps take care of him while I’m studying.”
Mrs. Wilkins’s smile tightened almost imperceptibly. “How… convenient,” she murmured. “And your parents?”
“They passed away last year in an accident.”
“Oh, how sad. Come in… come in,” she said as I followed her inside.
An anxious woman at the doorway | Source: Midjourney
The house was straight out of a storybook. Knick-knacks lined the shelves, and a geometric-patterned couch sat invitingly in the living room adorned with floral wallpaper. The faint aroma of vegetable soup drifted from the kitchen.
“I made us some dinner,” she said, leading me to the table. “It’s been ages since I had company.”
“That’s very kind of you,” I started, but she interrupted.
“Kind?” She chuckled, a sound that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Kindness is… complicated, Rachel. Some might say I’m too kind.”
I smiled, trying to ignore the sudden chill. “Thank you, Mrs. Wilkins. This place is amazing.”
“Amazing,” she repeated, almost to herself. “Yes, that’s one way to put it.”
An older woman with a haunting smile | Source: Midjourney
Over bowls of hearty soup, I shared bits of my life. She nodded sympathetically, her hand occasionally patting mine with a grip that was just a fraction too tight.
“You’ve been through so much,” she said softly. “But you’ll be just fine here, dear. I can feel it.”
There was something in her tone… a promise that felt more like a warning.
“I hope so,” I replied, my earlier comfort now tinged with an unexplained unease.
For the first time in months, I felt something between safety and something else. Something I couldn’t quite name. That night, I slept deeply, yet somewhere in the back of my mind, a small voice whispered: not everything is as it seems.
A woman lying in the bed | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, I woke up early, feeling optimistic.
The sun streamed through the lace curtains as I grabbed my toiletries and headed toward the kitchen, craving coffee before a hot shower.
That’s when I saw it. A huge list, almost four feet long, was taped to the fridge, written in bold, bright red letters: ‘HOUSE RULES – READ CAREFULLY.’
I froze.
A horrified woman | Source: Midjourney
I squinted, leaning closer as I began reading the rules one by one:
1. No keys will be provided. Mrs. Wilkins will let you in between 9 a.m & 8 p.m only.
2. The bathroom is locked at all times. You must ask Mrs. Wilkins for the key & return it immediately after use.
3. Your bedroom door must remain open at all times. Privacy breeds secrets.
4. No meat in the fridge. Mrs. Wilkins is a vegetarian & does not tolerate carnivores.
5. You must leave the house every Sunday from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Mrs. Wilkins has her “ladies’ tea.”
6. No visitors. Ever. Not even family.
7. Mrs. Wilkins reserves the right to enter your room whenever she pleases.
8. Cell phone usage is restricted to 30 minutes daily, monitored by Mrs. Wilkins.
9. No music allowed. Mrs. Wilkins loves a peaceful & quiet environment.
10. You are not allowed to cook your own food without Mrs. Wilkins’s consent.
11. You are allowed to use the shower only three times a week.
12. ******* RESERVED FOR LATER*******
A huge list of rules taped to a refrigerator | Source: Midjourney
“Reserved for later?” My stomach twisted with every rule I read. By the time I reached the end, my hands were trembling. What had I gotten myself into?
“Good morning, dear,” Mrs. Wilkins’ voice sang from behind, startling me.
I jumped, spinning around. She stood there with a serene smile, her hands clasped in front of her sweater. “Did you read the rules?” she asked, her tone suddenly sharp. “Every. Single. Word?”
An older woman smiling gravely | Source: Midjourney
“I… yes,” I stuttered.
Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “And?”
“They seem… thorough,” I managed.
Mrs. Wilkins stepped closer. “Thorough is an understatement. These rules keep order. Keep safety. And discipline.”
“Safety?” I repeated.
“From chaos, dear,” she said. “Chaos is everywhere. But not in my house. NEVER in my house.”
A startled young woman | Source: Midjourney
“Did you have bad experiences before?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
Her laugh was a brittle thing. “Bad experiences? Oh, you have no idea.”
“Did you say my brother Tommy can’t visit?” I pressed, remembering my promise to check on housing options for him.
“No visitors,” she repeated, each word precise. “Especially not children. They are… unpredictable.”
“But—”
“No exceptions,” Mrs. Wilkins interrupted, her smile freezing.
An older woman smiling wickedly in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney
I nodded, my mouth suddenly dry.
“I hope the rules aren’t too much for you, dear,” she said, her voice returning to that earlier sweetness. “They’re very important to me.”
“Of course,” I stammered, trying to keep my voice steady. “I understand.”
But I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand how someone so kind could expect anyone to live under those rules. No key? No privacy? A bathroom lock?
Her eyes never left me as I mumbled something about needing to get ready for the day and retreated to my room, feeling like I was being watched.
A startled woman holding her head | Source: Midjourney
Behind me, Mrs. Wilkins hummed a tune that sounded almost like a children’s nursery rhyme.
I heard her footsteps pause outside my door. Then, surprisingly, they receded. The front door opened and closed. Through my window, I saw her walking to what looked like a small greenhouse in the backyard.
This was my chance.
I leaned against the door, my breath coming in shallow bursts. I had to get out. I couldn’t live like this… not when I was already stretched so thin.
As quietly as I could, I began stuffing my clothes into my suitcase. Every creak of the floorboards made my heart race. I kept glancing at the door, half expecting Mrs. Wilkins to appear with that unsettling smile.
A suitcase stashed with clothes on a bed | Source: Midjourney
“You’re making quite a bit of noise,” a voice suddenly crackled through an old intercom I hadn’t noticed before. “Would you like to explain what you’re doing?”
I froze. My hand hovered over a sweater, my heart pounding.
Mrs. Wilkins’s voice continued, razor-sharp. “Did you forget rule number seven? Everything requires my approval.”
Beads of sweat formed on my temples as I finished stuffing my clothes into my suitcase. I zipped up my bag, grabbed my things, and tiptoed toward the front door. But as I reached for the knob, a voice stopped me cold.
“Leaving already, dear?”
A shocked woman turning around | Source: Midjourney
I turned slowly. Mrs. Wilkins was standing at the end of the hallway, her expression calm but her eyes sharp.
“I, uh… I forgot I had something urgent to take care of,” I stammered.
“Oh, I see. Well, if you must leave, you must leave. But remember something: Everything is always worth discussing.”
Her tone was polite, but there was something chilling about it. The way she emphasized “must” felt like a challenge… a dare.
I nodded quickly, opened the door, and stepped out into the crisp morning air.
An older woman with a malicious glint in her eyes | Source: Midjourney
I didn’t stop walking until I reached a park a few blocks away. My suitcase sat beside me on the bench as I tried to catch my breath. What now? I had nowhere to go, no backup plan. The thought of giving up and going home crossed my mind, but I couldn’t. My brother needed me to make this work.
“Hey, you okay?” a voice cut through my thoughts.
I looked up to see a guy about my age. He was holding a cup of coffee and a paper bag, his dark hair falling into kind brown eyes.
“Not really,” I admitted.
A worried young man | Source: Midjourney
He studied me for a moment, something calculating behind those eyes. “You look like you’ve just escaped something. Not just a bad morning, but… something else.”
I tensed. “What makes you say that?”
He chuckled. “I’ve got a sixth sense for people running from something. Call it a talent. I’m Ethan, by the way.”
“Rachel,” I said.
A sad woman sitting on a wooden bench | Source: Midjourney
He sat down beside me and offered me the bag. “Croissant? Looks like you could use it.”
“Are you always this forward with strangers?” I hesitated before taking the croissant. “Thanks.”
“Only the ones who look like they’ve got a story. What’s yours?”
As I ate, I told him everything. About Mrs. Wilkins, her bizarre rules, and how I had no idea what to do next. He listened, nodding occasionally, his eyes never leaving my face.
“Sounds rough,” he said when I finished. “But something tells me there’s more to this story.”
“What do you mean?”
A shocked woman sitting on a bench | Source: Midjourney
He leaned in closer. “People like that old lady? They don’t just have rules. They have reasons. Dark reasons.”
We talked for hours. Ethan said that he worked part-time at a café near the campus. By the time the sun set, I had a lead on a room in a shared apartment — affordable, close to the campus, and most importantly, with normal rules.
“I’ll help you move if you want,” he offered, his tone almost too eager.
“Really?”
“Of course,” he said, flashing a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Can’t leave you hanging.”
A man sitting on a wooden bench and smiling | Source: Midjourney
Over the next few weeks, I settled into my new place, found a better-paying job at Ethan’s café, and started to feel like I could handle life again. Ethan and I grew close, and before long, he became more than just a friend.
But sometimes, late at night, I’d catch him looking at me strangely. Almost… appraisingly.
“Do you ever wonder about Mrs. Wilkins?” he’d ask randomly.
“Not really,” I’d reply. But that was a lie.
Sometimes, I think about Mrs. Wilkins and her strange little house. I wonder if she ever found another tenant. A chill would run down my spine when I remembered her last words: “Everything is always worth discussing.”
But one thing’s for sure: leaving that morning was the best decision I ever made.
A woman with a warm smile etched on her face | Source: Midjourney
Angelina Jolie’s nanny cautions her against repeating history with Brad Pitt.
Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt are still caught in a contentious divorce dispute.
While details about the former couple are limited, sources have shared information with the media that sheds light on the disintegration of their marriage.
Among the notable voices is Krisann Morel, Jolie’s childhood nanny, who claims that the actress is vilifying Pitt and manipulating their children amid their ongoing battle.
Morel played a significant role in Jolie’s early life, reportedly forming a strong bond with Jolie’s mother, Marcheline Bertrand, who tragically passed away from cancer.
Morel gained public attention in 2010 when Andrew Morton released an unauthorized biography about Angelina Jolie. Unlike many anonymous sources in the book, Morel chose to speak on the record, providing an intimate look at Jolie’s challenging upbringing. Her narrative reveals a troubled childhood filled with painful experiences.
The turmoil began with the separation of Jolie’s parents, Marcheline Bertrand and Jon Voight, in 1976. Jolie was merely six months old when her father left the family for a young drama student, leaving a significant emotional void.
“Jon Voight was a terrible father to her at that time. He betrayed her mother, leaving Marcheline heartbroken,” Susan Margaret, a friend of Jolie’s, recounted in an interview.
“She confided in me that Jon emotionally abused her. Angelina faced many difficulties growing up due to the turmoil,” she added.
Bertrand sacrificed her own acting dreams to focus on nurturing Jolie and her older brother, James Haven Voight. During Angelina’s early years, they moved between various rented apartments in New York City.
“We weren’t poor, but there was an expectation that we had wealth because I was the child of an actor,” Angelina revealed in a 2002 interview.
However, the family’s financial difficulties were not the most challenging aspect of their lives. Morel indicated that Bertrand struggled with her feelings towards Jolie, as the young girl bore a striking resemblance to her father. This tension escalated to the point where Bertrand kept Jolie secluded in a separate apartment within their building for two years, attended to by a rotating team of caregivers.
“Angie was a very lonely and troubled child. Her mother became convinced that Jon was cheating even before she was born,” Morel shared with the Daily Mail in 2016.
This separate apartment was originally meant for Jon’s production company, but Jolie ended up living there with nannies while her mother avoided seeing her, staying three floors below. Occasionally, Bertrand would come upstairs to visit Morel, expressing her sorrow over her situation.“It broke my heart. It still upsets me. I really felt for that child,” Morel wrote in Angelina: An Unauthorized Biography.
Morel revealed that Angelina and her brother were largely raised by nannies and often found themselves caught in the middle of their mother’s struggles. According to Morel, Jolie was often weaponized against their father.
“Jon was depicted as the villain, and Marcheline successfully turned both children against him. But this led to years of pain and unresolved wounds that linger to this day,” Morel told the Daily Mail.
Following the disintegration of “Brangelina,” Morel feared that Angelina might repeat her mother’s mistakes with Pitt. She noted the disturbing parallels between Angelina’s current situation and her own difficult childhood, especially when Bertrand severed ties with Jon Voight.
Morel expressed her worries, stating, “I wish I could tell her, ‘Please don’t alienate Brad from the children’s lives. Don’t use them as weapons during your divorce. And don’t demonize your husband.’ Because that’s exactly what your mother did during her breakup with your father, resulting in a lonely and traumatic childhood for you. Why would you inflict that same tragedy on your kids?”
Current Situation
Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt have six children: three adopted (Pax, Maddox, and Zahara) and three biological (Shiloh, Vivienne, and Knox). Since their high-profile separation in 2016, the former power couple has been engaged in a complicated custody battle.
The court drama has been filled with ups and downs. Jolie initially held full custody until May 2021, when Pitt was awarded joint custody. However, this decision was overturned after Los Angeles Superior Court Judge John W. Ouderkirk, who ruled in Pitt’s favor, was removed from the case due to concerns regarding his impartiality.
Currently, Jolie has primary physical custody, while Pitt has scheduled “custodial time” with their minor children. Yet, a final resolution appears distant.
As recently as April, Jolie filed court papers in Los Angeles accusing Pitt of physical abuse—claims he has vehemently denied.
Reports indicate that one of their daughters, Vivienne, has chosen to drop “Pitt” from her last name, with her sister Shiloh also seeking a legal name change. Additionally, 19-year-old Zahara is reportedly using “Jolie” as her surname, and their eldest child, Maddox, 22, also doesn’t include “Pitt” in his name.
For Pitt, these name changes symbolize a deeper estrangement that has developed over the years. According to Little Things, this growing distance has had a profound emotional impact on him, with a source stating, “Brad was devastated by this choice.”
Further escalating the tension, his son Pax harshly criticized Pitt in a 2020 Instagram post that recently resurfaced. “You have made the lives of those closest to me a constant hell,” Pax allegedly wrote on his private account. “You may tell yourself and the world whatever you want, but the truth will come to light someday.” He concluded with, “So Happy Father’s Day, you f*****g awful human being.”
A Heartfelt Plea
Currently, Shiloh is the only child legally changing her name, but the overall sentiment seems clear: the children are aligning with their mother amid the ongoing discord between their parents.
Krisann Morel believes Angelina still grapples with abandonment issues, which manifest in her relationship with her children today.
“I don’t know Brad Pitt, but he seems like a decent person, and he resembles Jon, so this is a clear repetition of the past. Angie has no real understanding of what a normal family looks like. Brad does; he came from one,” she said in 2016.
“These kids have been through enough. Angie is attempting to sever their connection with their father just as her mother did with hers. There is so little stability for these children as they move around so much—she is threatening to take away the only stability they have.”
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