My Stepmom Gifted Me a Funerary Urn for My 17th Birthday

As Lila was ready to celebrate her 17th birthday, she received an unexpected and creepy gift from her stepmother: a pink funerary urn. Like the type you keep ashes in? Yes, that’s the one. But that’s not all! Lila learns that her college fund was given to Monica to open her salon. What will Lila do?

Let me tell you, I’ve been sitting on this one for a few days, just trying to make sense of what went down.

I always thought my stepmom, Monica, was the worst, though not Disney villain evil. She was the kind of person who talks over you, forgets your birthday, and calls you “kiddo” when you’re practically an adult.

A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

But, what she pulled on my 17th birthday? It shattered whatever shaky truce we had.

At least, that’s what I thought. Turns out, things weren’t exactly what they seemed.

Here’s how it all went down.

My mom, Sarah, died when I was ten, and after that, it was just Dad and me. We were a solid team. The type of team that has pizza for dinner half the week, late-night movies, and this unspoken agreement that we’d always have each other’s backs.

Two boxes of pizza on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney

Two boxes of pizza on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney

Then came Monica, about three years ago.

At first, she wasn’t horrible; she was just… there. Like a stray cat that never leaves, so you have no choice but to adopt it. Monica moved into our house, took over the bathroom with her fifty bottles of face serums and creams, and slowly pushed her way into my dad’s world.

Monica had big dreams of opening a hair salon, which was fine. I wasn’t against people having dreams. I had my own dreams waiting for me, but she treated me like I was just this annoying piece of furniture that came with the house.

A woman's vanity | Source: Midjourney

A woman’s vanity | Source: Midjourney

Honestly, I was counting down the days until I could escape to college.

Dad had promised me since middle school that there was a college fund waiting for me.

“Don’t worry, sweet girl,” he told me. “Your mom and I put together the fund when you were five. There’s more than enough, and every year on your birthday and Christmas, I add more.”

A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney

A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney

“Thank you, Dad,” I said. “I just want to study and make something of myself, like Mom said.”

“You only have to worry about your grades, Lila,” he said. “I’ll handle the rest.”

Naturally, I worked my butt off in school, knowing that in a few years, I’d be out of here.

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

College was my golden ticket, and no one — not even Monica — would stand in my way.

At least, that’s what I thought.

On the morning of my 17th birthday, I came downstairs expecting the usual lukewarm effort. By lukewarm, I mean a sad card, some pancakes, and Monica forgetting my favorite syrup. Dad was at work, so it was just Mon and I.

A plate of pancakes and a card on a table | Source: Midjourney

A plate of pancakes and a card on a table | Source: Midjourney

She handed me a gift bag, which was already weird because Monica wasn’t exactly the thoughtful or sentimental type.

“Happy Birthday, kiddo,” she said, flashing one of her tight-lipped smiles.

I wasn’t expecting much, but I sure as hell wasn’t expecting this.

I reached inside the bag and pulled out… an urn.

A shocked teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

A shocked teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

A funerary urn.

You know, the kind that people store ashes in. Cold, heavy, and, well, pink. It was pink.

I just stared at it, my brain short-circuiting.

“What the hell is this?” I asked, holding the urn like it was cursed.

A pink funerary urn | Source: Midjourney

A pink funerary urn | Source: Midjourney

Monica leaned against the kitchen counter, smug as ever.

“It’s symbolic,” she said as if that explained anything.

“Symbolic of what?”

Monica’s grin widened.

A smiling woman in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

“It’s time to bury your dreams of college, kiddo. Your dad and I talked about this, and we decided to put the college fund to better use.”

“Better use?” I asked, a cold shiver running through me.

“Yep. We’re investing it in my hair salon. College is a gamble, Lila. A business? That’s something real, sweetie.”

A hair salon being renovated | Source: Midjourney

A hair salon being renovated | Source: Midjourney

She sipped her coffee like she’d just said the most reasonable thing in the world.

I was frozen in place, trying to make sense of what I’d just heard. Had they really taken my future, everything I’d worked for, and sunk it into Monica’s salon dream?

“How could you do this?” I whispered.

Monica just smiled, a little too pleased with herself.

A shocked teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

A shocked teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

“Life’s full of disappointments, kiddo. Better get used to it now,” she said.

Wow.

That was it. I was done. I ran upstairs, slamming the door behind me so hard that the walls shook.

I cried so hard it hurt. What else could I do? Everything I had been holding onto was gone, and the only person I thought I could count on, Dad, had let this happen.

An upset teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

An upset teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

My mom wanted me to get out and make something of myself. And now? It was all over.

The next few days were a blur. I didn’t speak to Monica or my dad unless I absolutely had to. Every time I looked at that stupid urn sitting on my desk, my stomach twisted.

I couldn’t even bring myself to throw it out. It felt like some kind of morbid evidence. Like proof of the betrayal I didn’t see coming.

A pink funerary urn on a desk | Source: Midjourney

A pink funerary urn on a desk | Source: Midjourney

At school, my friends tried to cheer me up.

“Maybe she thought it was funny, Lila,” my friend Kira said. “Like, who really knows what Monica is thinking?”

“And anyway, there’s nothing stopping you from throwing it out! Just do it! Don’t overthink it,” Mel said.

Three teenage girls | Source: Midjourney

Three teenage girls | Source: Midjourney

But still, I couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact that Monica was prancing around, acting like she was the queen of the house, while I sat there with no future.

Then, a few days later, something strange happened.

When I got home from school, there was a note on my desk. Not in an envelope, just folded, with my name written in Monica’s messy handwriting.

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

Meet me at the salon at 6 P.M. tonight. No questions. Just trust me. -M.

I almost laughed out loud. Trust her? Yeah, right.

But something about the note gnawed at me. Maybe it was the fact that I wanted to confront her one last time, tell her exactly what I thought of her.

Against my better judgment, I decided to go.

A note on a table | Source: Midjourney

A note on a table | Source: Midjourney

When I got to the salon, the lights were off, and the front door was unlocked.

I hesitated for a second, wondering if this was some elaborate prank. But curiosity got the best of me.

I stepped inside, and there they were. Monica and my dad, standing side by side, both grinning widely.

“Surprise!” Monica shouted, throwing her arms up like this was the happiest moment of her life.

The entrance to a salon | Source: Midjourney

The entrance to a salon | Source: Midjourney

I just stared at them, completely lost.

“What is this?”

Monica stepped aside, and that’s when I saw it — a shiny, brand-new sign mounted on the wall.

Dream Cuts: A Scholarship Fund in Honor of Sarah

I blinked, feeling like the room was tilting on its axis.

A hair salon | Source: Midjourney

A hair salon | Source: Midjourney

“What… what is this?”

Monica smiled, but it wasn’t her usual smug grin. This one was softer, almost real.

“We didn’t use your college fund, kiddo. It’s all still there. The salon? It’s not just for me. It’s for you, too. For other kids like you, too.”

I couldn’t breathe.

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

“But then, why would you make me think otherwise?” I asked.

Monica winced, putting her hand on her head.

“Yeah, so, the urn thing… That was not my best idea. I thought it’d be motivational, like, bury the past and embrace the future. You know? But it turns out that it was just creepy.”

A woman with her hand on her head | Source: Midjourney

A woman with her hand on her head | Source: Midjourney

I stared at her, speechless.

My dad stepped forward, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

“We’ve been planning this for months, Lila,” he said. “Your mom always wanted to help kids get to college. This salon is going to fund scholarships. For you and for others in her name.”

“The salon has been my dream, Lila,” Monica said. “But it was never going to come at your expense. This way, a great portion of all our profits in the future will go to the fund.”

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

I didn’t know what to say.

Or what to think.

Just that I felt a warm haze take over me.

Monica laughed softly.

“I’m not a monster, darling,” she said. “I just didn’t want you to think that I was trying to take over your mom’s role.”

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

For the first time in a long time, I smiled.

It wasn’t perfect, but things with Monica probably never would be. But, at that moment, standing in the middle of a salon named for my mom’s dream, I realized that she wasn’t trying to ruin my life.

She was trying to build something bigger than any of us.

A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

And somehow, against all odds, it felt like a new beginning.

And yeah, I kept the urn. But I planted white peace lilies in it, thinking it would be symbolic after all. And who knows, maybe I’ll take the urn to college.

What would you have done?

Peace lilies planted into a pink funerary urn | Source: Midjourney

Peace lilies planted into a pink funerary urn | Source: Midjourney

If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |

I Transferred $24K to My Daughter for Her College Tuition, Only to Discover She Never Enrolled — What She Spent It On Made Me Pale

Caroline had been saving for her daughter’s college fund since Angela was born. But after a classmate of Angela’s reveals that Angela is not actually enrolled in college, Caroline must uncover what her daughter is doing and what she used the money for.

Children are always going to break your heart. This was something that I learned the hard way after trusting my daughter, Angela, completely.

A close-up of a smiling girl | Source: Midjourney

A close-up of a smiling girl | Source: Midjourney

Since Angela was born, I have been saving for college. I needed to know that irrespective of what life threw my way, I would be able to educate my child.

“I think you can wait until she’s a little older,” my husband, Holden, said. “We can do it together.”

“You can add to her college fund later,” I said, looking at my baby girl. “But I’m going to start from next month. I wasn’t able to study, Holden. And it was because we didn’t have the opportunity to do so. Angela is going to get that opportunity.”

A smiling baby girl | Source: Midjourney

A smiling baby girl | Source: Midjourney

“Okay, Caroline,” my husband said. “You start it now, and I’ll add to it in a year. The house will be paid off, and I’ll be able to put that money into the fund.”

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

My neighbors reached out to complain about my in-laws’ behavior – so I gave them permission to put them in their place

“Me neither,” I replied, squeezing his hand. “It’s going to be amazing.”

We had called his parents, Miriam and Richard, over to share the news.

When they arrived, I could see the curiosity in their eyes.

“What’s this big news you have for us?” Miriam asked, settling into her favorite chair.

David took a deep breath. “I got the project. We’re moving to California for a month.”

Miriam’s face lit up. “That’s wonderful, David! But what about the house? You can’t just leave it empty.”

Richard nodded. “She’s right. Houses need looking after.”

I glanced at David, who gave me a reassuring smile. “We were hoping you could help with that,” he said.

Miriam’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Oh, we’d love to! Right, Richard?”

“Absolutely,” Richard agreed.

“Thank you so much,” I said. “That would be very helpful.”

David seemed relieved. “Great, it’s settled then.”

But as we started to pack up our things, I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease.

Miriam and Richard had a habit of overstepping boundaries, and I worried about what they might do while we were away.

The next morning, David and I loaded the last of our bags into the car. Miriam and Richard stood by, ready to take over.

“Don’t worry about a thing,” Miriam said. “We’ve got it all under control.”

I forced another smile. “Thanks, Miriam. We really appreciate it.”

David hugged his parents goodbye. “Take care of yourselves and the house,” he said.

Richard gave me a firm handshake. “You two enjoy your adventure. We’ll keep everything in order here.”

As we drove away, I couldn’t help but feel a knot in my stomach. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked David.

“It’ll be fine, Michelle,” he said, glancing at me. “They mean well.”

I nodded, trying to convince myself. “I know. It’s just…”

“I understand,” he said, squeezing my hand. “But this is a great opportunity for us. And we’re going to enjoy our time in California, okay?”

I took a deep breath and pushed my worries aside. “You’re right. Let’s focus on the adventure ahead.”

But despite my efforts to focus on our new adventure, the unease from leaving our house in Miriam and Richard’s hands lingered.

A week into our stay in California, I received a call from Alice, our close neighbor.

“Hey, Michelle,” Alice started, her voice hesitant. “I need to tell you something about your in-laws.”

My heart sank. “What did they do, Alice?”

She took a deep breath. “Miriam threw away your purple curtains.”

“What?” I felt a surge of anger. “Those were my favorite!”

“There’s more,” Alice continued. “She also scolded me for wearing a top and shorts in my own backyard.”

I clenched my fist. “That’s so intrusive. She has no right!”

“And,” Alice hesitated again, “I saw her throwing away some of your clothes.”

Chills ran down my spine. “What? She did what?”

“I’m so sorry, Michelle. Tom and I want to help. We can talk to Miriam and Richard and put them in their place.”

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. “Thank you, Alice. I appreciate it. Please, do what you can. They need to understand boundaries.”

“What’s wrong?” David asked as he entered the room.

“Miriam threw away my curtains and some of my clothes. She even scolded Alice for her outfit in her own yard.”

“What? Mom did that? This is too much. We need to call them.”

“Let’s wait,” I said. “Alice and Tom are going to talk to them first.”

“Alright, but if this doesn’t stop, we’re calling them ourselves.”

“They need to learn that they can’t just do whatever they want,” I said, nodding.

As I ended the call with Alice, I felt a sense of resolve. Miriam and Richard were going to learn the hard way that their behavior was unacceptable.

I anxiously waited for Alice’s call to update me on their talk with Miriam and Richard. When my phone finally rang, I answered immediately.

“Michelle, it’s Alice. We talked to them, but Miriam just brushed it off. We need to take this further.”

I took a deep breath. “Alright, what’s the plan?”

“We’ll gather the neighbors,” Alice said. “Let’s have a video call to discuss it.”

An hour later, I sat at my laptop, connecting to a video call with Alice, Tom, Brian, Ellen, and Honor. Everyone looked serious and ready to help.

“Thanks for joining,” I began. “Miriam’s crossed the line. We need to show her boundaries.”

Brian nodded. “What can we do?”

Alice leaned in. “Miriam’s planning a barbecue this weekend. I say we crash it.”

Tom grinned. “Sounds good. How?”

“Everyone wears Hawaiian shorts,” Alice suggested, her eyes twinkling. “And we bring tuna pies — Miriam hates them.”

Ellen laughed. “That’ll definitely make a statement.”

“Make it fun and loud,” I added, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. “Show them what real boundaries are.”

Honor nodded. “Count me in.”

We spent the next hour planning every detail. Everyone had a role, from baking the pies to finding the brightest Hawaiian shorts!

Before we ended the call, Brian clapped his hands together. “This is going to be epic.”

“Remember,” I said, trying to sound confident, “the goal is to reclaim my home, not start a war.”

Alice smiled. “We’ve got this, Michelle. They won’t know what hit them.”

Just when I hung up, David returned from grocery shopping. “We have a plan,” I explained, detailing everything.

He listened quietly and sighed. “I feel bad it’s come to this. They’re my parents, after all.”

“I know,” I said gently. “But they need to learn they can’t do whatever they want.”

He nodded slowly. “You’re right. I just wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

“I understand,” I replied. “But it’s the only way to reclaim our home.”

David managed a small smile. “Alright. Let’s see how it goes.”

That weekend, I traveled back home, determined to handle the situation in person.

Soon, the day of the barbecue arrived, and Miriam’s loud invitations gave Alice the perfect opportunity to overhear. I waited anxiously nearby, ready for the call.

Soon enough, my phone rang. “Michelle, they’re here,” Honor said. “It’s time.”

“On my way,” I replied, taking a deep breath and heading to our backyard.

As I approached, I saw the neighbors in their bright Hawaiian shorts, carrying tuna pies and ready to party. Miriam and Richard stood there, shocked and outraged.

“What is this? You can’t be here!” Miriam snapped at them.

Alice stepped forward, unfazed. “We’re here to enjoy the barbecue, Miriam.”

Miriam’s face turned red. “I’m calling the police! You can’t just crash my party like that.”

Honor quickly called me. “Michelle, it’s time.”

I entered the backyard, feeling a surge of determination. “Miriam,” I began, “you’ve crossed the line. So I think I should be the one calling the cops.”

Miriam glared at me. “How dare you speak to me like this in front of everyone! This is unacceptable! Did you plan all of this?”

“Unacceptable,” I said firmly, “is you changing the curtains, making inappropriate remarks to my neighbors, and throwing away my clothes! My neighbors will stay at this party, and you will serve them barbecue. Then, you’ll pay me for the things you threw away. Otherwise, I’ll call the police for damaging my property at MY home.”

Miriam’s facade crumbled as she stood speechless, her face red with anger and disbelief.

“You can’t do this,” she sputtered.

“You have a choice,” I said, holding my ground. “Comply or face the consequences.”

The neighbors watched, some smiling, others nodding in agreement. Richard, realizing the gravity of the situation, gently tugged her arm.

“We should just do what she says,” Richard said quietly. “Let’s not make this worse.”

Miriam looked around, seeing the determination on my face and the support from the neighbors. She finally nodded, defeated. “Fine,” she muttered.

With no choice, Miriam served the barbecue with a forced smile while the neighbors enjoyed the party. The atmosphere was lively and joyous, with music playing and everyone having a good time.

I was glad that I had reclaimed my home and set the boundaries clear. It wasn’t just about the curtains or the clothes — it was about respect and understanding. And we had made that crystal clear.

Do you think we did the right thing?

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