Imagine coming home after a long day, expecting peace, only to find your husband and his ex-wife in your living room. That’s exactly what happened to me. But Melissa wasn’t just there for a chat. What she was doing was beyond anything I could’ve imagined.
Do you know the feeling when you return home after a day full of meetings and deadlines? All you want is just to take a shower, change into a fresh pair of pajamas, and sink into your cozy bed. It’s just the best feeling ever.
I felt the same when I got home from work two weeks ago. All I wanted was my bed, a cup of hot coffee, and the true-crime documentary I’d been watching. I was set to watch episode 3, but what I saw when I stepped inside made me forget everything.
I opened the door, hung the car keys, and began walking towards my room when something unexpected caught my eye. At first, I really thought I was imagining things because it seemed too odd to be true.
I noticed the couch was gone, the rug was missing, and even the bookshelf had vanished. I checked the hallway and the kitchen, and sure enough, most of the items were missing. The coat closet? Gone. The coffee machine? Gone. The dining table? GONE!
What the heck? I thought. Where’s Roger?
Roger, my husband, usually came home before me, but I couldn’t see him around. Then, I heard his voice, like he was yelling at someone. It was coming from the end of the hallway. From our living room.
I threw my bag on the kitchen island and followed his voice. As I got closer, another voice echoed through the hallway. It was a woman’s voice.
Not ready for what was waiting, I pushed the door open and saw my husband with his ex-wife, Melissa. The woman Roger swore he’d never see again, the one he called “a filthy rich spoiled brat.”
I felt like my heart had jumped up to my throat. Why was Melissa in my house?
“Roger?” I said, interrupting their conversation. “What… What happened to our house?”
“Oh, Liz, you’re here?” Roger asked as if he wasn’t expecting me.
“Yeah, I just got back,” I said. “What’s she doing here?”
“I’ll explain everything,” Roger stuttered. “I’ll fix it, I swear.”
Roger looked desperate for me to stay calm, while Melissa stood there smirking. I almost thought they were having an affair until Melissa’s words sent a wave of pure rage through me.
“No, you won’t,” she snapped at Roger. “Didn’t you tell her that everything you owned is mine?”
“I… I…” Roger stammered, lost for words.
“Well, honey,” she said, turning to me. “All of this furniture… it belongs to me. You see, your husband and I bought it together when we were married, so I’m just taking back what’s mine.”
What the… I thought. What does she think of herself?
She was practically destroying my house and acting like it was no big deal.
I remember staring at her for a few moments, thinking what kind of an evil person would enter their ex’s house and take away most of their furniture.
I wanted to scream, to kick her out, but I couldn’t. Not with Roger just standing there silently and watching as she humiliated me.
“And you’re letting her take everything?” I finally managed to speak, looking straight into Roger’s eyes. “You didn’t even try to stop her? And why didn’t you tell me she was coming? You knew, right?”
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled as he lowered his gaze. He was too ashamed to even look at me.
“Seriously, Roger? That’s it?” I rolled my eyes. “I never thought you’d let your ex walk out with our whole life! This is ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous?” Melissa laughed. “I’m sorry honey, but technically everything in your house belongs to me. Even the bed that you two share. I paid for all this stuff, so I have every right to take it.”
Yeah, right, I thought to myself.
It would be true if I said I’ve never felt this humiliated in my entire life. Can you even imagine what kind of patience it took to stop myself from humiliating Melissa?
I could’ve thrown every embarrassing secret Roger had told me about Melissa right back at her, but I wasn’t about to stoop to her level. I wasn’t going to be petty.
At that point, I wanted to ask why she needed this old, used furniture when she could afford a brand-new bed set, and the latest model of the automatic coffee machine.
She was wealthy, owning one of the most popular businesses in town, and she could easily afford a fully furnished house.
But I knew why she was doing it. It was all about humiliating me. I could see the jealousy in her eyes.
“Fine,” I spat. “Take it. Take everything you own. But don’t you dare contact me or my husband ever again!”
“Sure, honey,” she said, smirking as if she had won the biggest prize of her life.
I watched as she walked toward the main door and called the workers inside to pick up the remaining furniture. Then, I spotted a truck in our backyard, full of the furniture the workers had already moved.
Meanwhile, Roger silently watched the workers tear our house apart. He was helpless, and just as heartbroken as I was.
That’s when I came up with a plan to make Melissa regret her decision.
Right when she stepped outside to look at the truck, I hurried into the kitchen and pulled out a few frozen shrimp from the freezer. Then, I quickly hid them in different places including our side table, the living room chairs, and inside our mattress.
I even stuffed a few of them inside the decorative pillows. I only had to wait for a few days to see the shrimps do their magic.
You see, I knew she wouldn’t keep this furniture in her house. She was probably going to dump it in some storage unit, and I couldn’t wait to see how these little pieces of meat would turn that place into an unbearable stink bomb.
As the workers loaded the last piece of furniture into the truck, Melissa gave one final self-satisfied glance around, ensuring she had destroyed our house in every possible way.
“I hope you’ve taken everything that’s YOURS,” I said, my arms crossed.
She nodded. “Yup, I’m done, honey. Sorry for the inconvenience.”
Sure, sorry, I thought.
And with that, Melissa left our house and drove away in her shiny SUV. Meanwhile, Roger sat on the ground with his hands on his head.
“I’m so sorry,” he said as tears trickled down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you. She called me a few days ago and told me she’d come over, but I had no idea she was serious. I never thought she’d do this to us.”
I sighed and sat down next to him.
“It’s alright, babe,” I said, caressing his arms. “I wouldn’t want to live in a house furnished by your ex-wife anyway.”
At that point, I could’ve yelled at Roger, blamed him, and made him feel terrible about the situation, but I knew things weren’t in his control. Besides, that’s exactly what Melissa wanted.
She wanted to see us fight and break apart, and I wasn’t going to give her that satisfaction.
“Instead of apologizing, I want you to buy me new furniture, okay?” I chuckled. “Anything I pick. I want to make this place feel like home again.”
“I’ll do that,” he looked up at me with a smile. “I’ll buy every piece of furniture that you want. I promise.”
I held his hand and squeezed it hard.
“I love you, Roger, and I’ll always be there for you,” I said. “We’ll get through this together.”
As we lay on the bedroom floor that night, I realized that I didn’t need Melissa’s furniture to make my house feel like home. I had Roger, and that was all I needed.
But the story doesn’t end here.
A few days later, while scrolling through Facebook, I stumbled upon a post in one of the local groups. It was from Melissa, and it was clear she was desperate.
HELP NEEDED URGENTLY! Does anyone know how to get rid of a horrible, rotting meat smell in furniture? I recently moved some old furniture into a storage unit, and within days, it started smelling like something died inside.
I’ve tried airing it out, deep cleaning, and even using baking soda, but nothing works! The smell is unbearable, and I can’t even walk into the storage room without gagging. Please, if anyone has tips, I’m losing my mind here!
I couldn’t help but chuckle while reading her frantic post. All her wealth, all her pride, and she was brought down by a few pieces of hidden shrimp.
It was the sweetest revenge. Served cold.
What would you have done if you were in my place?
This Kid’s Halloween Surprise for an Elderly Neighbor Will Leave You in Tears
Kevin had already made his Halloween costume with his mom, helped his dad put up decorations around their house, and dreamed about all the candy he would collect. But there was one house on his street that didn’t have any decorations, and it kept bothering him. He couldn’t understand why someone would skip celebrating, so he figured maybe they needed a little help.
Halloween was just around the corner, and the whole neighborhood was filled with excitement. Every yard seemed to be competing to be the scariest one on the block.
Pumpkins with sharp, grinning faces lined the sidewalks, plastic skeletons swung from trees, and fake spider webs covered front porches.
The air smelled like dry leaves and candy, and eleven-year-old Kevin soaked it all in, his heart racing with excitement.
Halloween was Kevin’s favorite day of the year—a day when you could be whoever you wanted. He loved how everything seemed to change for one magical night.
As he walked down the sidewalk, his eyes moved from one house to another, each one decorated with glowing jack-o’-lanterns or spooky ghosts. Kevin couldn’t help but smile.
Some houses even played creepy sound effects like witches cackling or doors creaking.
But as he went farther down the street, something didn’t look right.
One house stood dark and empty, totally different from the others. No pumpkins, cobwebs, or skeletons. Not even a tiny decoration. Kevin frowned when he realized whose house it was—Mrs. Kimbly’s.
He stopped, staring at her bare front porch. Mrs. Kimbly was an older lady who lived alone and kept to herself. Kevin had helped her before, mowing her lawn in the summer and shoveling snow in the winter. She never said much, just paid him and went back inside.
But today, her undecorated house didn’t fit in with the rest of the cheerful neighborhood.
Why hadn’t Mrs. Kimbly decorated for Halloween? Kevin couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
Halloween was about having fun, and it didn’t seem fair for anyone to miss out, especially someone who lived alone like Mrs. Kimbly.
Kevin’s heart felt heavy. Maybe she just needed help. Maybe she couldn’t decorate by herself.
Determined, Kevin ran across the street to her house. The leaves crunched under his feet as he climbed her porch steps.
He paused for a moment, then knocked. The sound echoed, and Kevin felt nervous. Finally, the door creaked open.
Mrs. Kimbly stood there, frowning, her eyes squinting behind her glasses.
“What do you want, Kevin?” she asked in a low, sharp voice.
Kevin swallowed. “Hi, Mrs. Kimbly. I noticed your house isn’t decorated for Halloween, and I thought maybe you forgot. I could help you put some decorations up if you’d like.”
Mrs. Kimbly squinted even more. “I didn’t forget,” she snapped. “I don’t need decorations, and I don’t need help. Now, go away.” She started to close the door.
“I could do it for free!” Kevin quickly added. “You wouldn’t even have to do anything.”
Mrs. Kimbly scowled. “No!” she shouted and slammed the door.
Kevin couldn’t believe it. How could someone hate Halloween so much?
If her house stayed undecorated, other kids might prank her with toilet paper or worse. Kevin sighed and started walking away, but a plan formed in his mind.
At home, Kevin found his mom in the kitchen, cooking. The smell of soup filled the air, but Kevin could only think about Mrs. Kimbly’s undecorated house.
“Mom, something weird happened,” Kevin said, sitting at the table. His mom turned, wiping her hands on a towel.
“What is it?” she asked.
Kevin told her about Mrs. Kimbly’s house and how she had slammed the door when he offered to help.
But when he said Mrs. Kimbly’s name, his mom’s face softened.
“Maybe it’s best to leave her alone,” his mom said gently. “She might be going through something we don’t understand.”
Kevin frowned. “But, Mom, she’s not mad, she’s just sad. Halloween should be fun. She shouldn’t feel left out.”
His mom smiled but looked concerned. “You have a kind heart, Kevin. Just be careful. Sometimes people aren’t ready for help.”
Those words stuck with Kevin, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Mrs. Kimbly.
With determination, he gathered all the Halloween decorations he could find—lights, spiders, toys, and even his favorite pumpkin—and loaded them into a wagon.
He hurried back to Mrs. Kimbly’s house and began decorating. As he worked, the house slowly transformed, but just as he finished, the door creaked open.
Mrs. Kimbly stormed out, looking furious.
“I told you not to decorate my house!” she shouted.
Kevin froze, his heart racing. “I just wanted to help,” he whispered. “It’s Halloween…”
Before he could finish, Mrs. Kimbly grabbed the pumpkin he had carved and smashed it on the ground.
Kevin watched in shock as his pumpkin shattered into pieces. His heart sank.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, then turned and ran home.
That evening, Kevin put on his vampire costume, but he couldn’t enjoy Halloween.
As he trick-or-treated with friends, his mind kept drifting back to Mrs. Kimbly’s dark house.
He worried the other kids might prank her, so Kevin decided to go back.
When he got to her house, he sat on her porch, handing out his own candy to the kids who came by.
“Mrs. Kimbly’s not home,” he told them, trying to keep her house safe.
After a while, as Kevin sat alone, the door behind him opened. Mrs. Kimbly stepped out, her face no longer angry.
“What are you doing here, Kevin?” she asked quietly.
“I didn’t want anyone to mess with your house,” Kevin said. “I just wanted to help.”
Mrs. Kimbly sighed and sat beside him. She was quiet for a moment, watching the kids on the street.
“I’m sorry for earlier,” she finally said. “I wasn’t mad at you. Halloween just reminds me of how alone I am.”
Kevin felt sad. “You don’t have to be alone,” he said. “You can still join in.”
Mrs. Kimbly smiled softly, her eyes teary. “Thank you for what you did today. And I’m sorry about your pumpkin.”
Kevin smiled. “It’s okay. I’ll bring another one, and we can carve it together.”
For the first time in years, Mrs. Kimbly felt the warmth of Halloween again, thanks to one kind boy.
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