When my parents demanded rent for the basement I’d turned into a haven, they never expected it would lead to my escape and their ultimate regret.
I’d always felt like the black sheep in my family. It was not just a feeling, though. It was pretty obvious when you looked at how differently my parents treated me and my younger brother, Daniel.
When I was 17, we moved to a two-bedroom house, and my parents decided Daniel needed his own room. Instead of sharing like normal siblings, they shoved me into our unfinished basement.
A basement | Source: Unsplash
Meanwhile, he got this huge, bright room upstairs, complete with brand-new everything, like furniture, decorations, and even a gaming setup. Me? I got whatever junk they could scrounge up from the garage.
I remember the day they showed me my new “room.”
Mom gestured around the cold, concrete space like it was some kind of prize. “Elena, honey, isn’t this exciting? You’ll have so much space down here!”
Middle-aged woman smiling | Source: Pexels
I stared at the bare bulb dangling from the ceiling, the cobwebs in the corners, and the musty smell that clung to everything. “Yeah, Mom. Super exciting.”
Dad clapped me on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit, kiddo! And hey, maybe we can fix it up a bit later, huh?”
Later never came, of course. But I wasn’t about to live in a dungeon forever.
A teenager girl in a dark basement | Source: Midjourney
I picked up an after-school job at the local grocery store, bagging groceries and pushing carts. It wasn’t glamorous, but every paycheck brought me closer to transforming my basement prison.
My Aunt Teresa was my saving grace through it all. She’s the only one who knew what my life was like at home.
So, when she heard what I was doing with the basement, she started coming over on weekends, armed with paintbrushes and a contagious enthusiasm.
A woman painting a wall | Source: Pexels
“Alright, Ellie-girl,” she’d say, tying back her wild curls. “Let’s make this place shine!”
We started with paint, turning the dingy walls into a soft lavender. Then came curtains to hide the tiny windows, area rugs to cover the cold floor, and string lights to chase away the shadows.
It took months because my job didn’t exactly pay much, but slowly, the basement became mine. I hung up posters of my favorite bands, arranged my books on salvaged shelves, and even managed to snag a secondhand desk for homework.
Posters on the wall | Source: Pexels
The day I hung up the final touch, a set of LED lights around my bed, I stepped back and felt something I hadn’t in a long time or perhaps my entire life: pride.
I was admiring my handiwork when I heard footsteps on the stairs. Mom and Dad appeared and looked around with raised eyebrows.
“Well, well,” Dad said, his eyes narrowing. “Looks like someone’s been busy.”
A man with arms crossed and a tight expression | Source: Pexels
I waited for praise, or at least acknowledgment of my hard work. Instead, Mom pursed her lips.
“Elena, if you have money for all this,” she waved her hand at my carefully curated space, “then you can start contributing to the household.”
My jaw dropped. “What?”
“That’s right,” Dad nodded. “We think it’s time you started paying rent.”
A man’s hand | Source: Pexels
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Rent? I’m 17! I’m still in high school!”
“And clearly making enough to redecorate,” Mom countered, crossing her arms. “It’s time you learned some financial responsibility.”
I wanted to scream. Daniel had a room three times the size of mine, fully furnished and decorated on their dime, and he’d never worked a day in his life. Yes, he was younger, but still, it was more of their unfairness.
A big modern bedroom | Source: Pexels
Unfortunately, I knew I couldn’t argue with them, so I bit my tongue. “Fine,” I managed. “How much?”
They named a figure that made my stomach sink. It was doable, but it meant saying goodbye to any hopes of saving for college, which was my plan now that the basement was done.
As if to add insult to injury, Daniel chose that moment to thunder down the stairs. He took one look around and let out a low whistle.
Teenage boy going downstairs to basement | Source: Midjourney
“Whoa, sis. Nice cave.” His eyes landed on my LED lights. “Hey, are these strong?”
Before I could stop him, he reached up and yanked on the strip. The lights came down with a sad flicker, leaving a trail of peeled paint behind them.
“Daniel!” I cried. But my parents rushed to him, asked if something was wrong, and just shrugged at me.
“Boys will be boys,” Dad chuckled as if his golden boy hadn’t just destroyed something I’d worked months for.
Middle man laughing | Source: Pexels
So, there I was, standing in my once-again darkened room, fighting back tears of frustration. In the grand scheme of things, Daniel had only ruined my lights, and I could fix that up. But in truth, it was more than that.
It was a symbol of my life; always second best, always the afterthought. But karma, as they say, has a way of evening the score.
A few weeks later, my parents invited Aunt Teresa over for dinner along with some friends. She brought along a woman named Ava, an interior designer from her book club.
Two women at a dinner | Source: Pexels
We all sat around the dining table and picked at Mom’s overcooked pot roast while she gushed about Daniel and his football team.
But suddenly, Aunt Teresa spoke up. “Ava, you’ve got to see what my niece has done with the basement. It’s incredible!”
I felt my cheeks heat up as all eyes turned to me. “It’s not that big a deal,” I mumbled.
But Ava was intrigued. “I’d love to see it. Do you mind?”
A woman smiling | Source: Pexels
Ignoring my parents’ tight smiles, I led Ava downstairs. As she looked around, her eyes widened.
“Elena, this is amazing. You did all this yourself?”
I nodded, suddenly shy. “Most of it. My aunt helped with some of the bigger stuff.”
Ava ran her hand along the repurposed bookshelf I’d salvaged from a neighbor’s curb. “You have a real eye for design. There wasn’t much potential here, but the way you’ve maximized the space, the color choices… it’s really impressive.”
A bookshelf | Source: Pexels
For the first time in forever, I felt a spark of hope. “Really?”
She nodded and smiled. “In fact, we have an internship opening up at my firm. It’s usually for college students, but… I think we could make an exception for a high school student about to go to college. Are you interested in design as a career?”
I had to stop my jaw from falling off when I tried to speak. “Absolutely! I mean, I’ve never really considered it professionally, but I love it.”
A teenage girl smiling | Source: Midjourney
Ava smiled. “Well, consider it now. The internship is paid, and if you do a good job, you might be able to earn a scholarship from the company for college if you pursue design. What do you say?”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Yes! A thousand times, yes! Thank you!”
“Excellent! You can begin straight away. I’ll call you with details later,” Ava nodded and bypassed my parents as she headed upstairs.
A nice woman smiling | Source: Pexels
I hadn’t even realized they had followed us downstairs. Their faces were stunned, and my brother looked confused that, for once, the spotlight was on someone else.
That internship changed everything. Suddenly, I had a direction, a purpose, and most importantly, people who valued and wanted me to succeed.
So, I threw myself into learning everything I could about design, stayed late at the firm, and soaked up knowledge like a sponge.
A teenage girl working in an office | Source: Midjourney
Over the next few months, I juggled school, my internship, and my part-time job at the grocery store. It was exhausting but exhilarating.
At home, things were… different. My parents seemed unsure how to treat me now. The rent demands stopped. Instead, they asked me about my “little job.”
“So, uh, how’s that design thing going?” Dad would wonder over dinner, but he always avoided my eyes.
Middle-aged man looking down | Source: Pexels
“It’s great,” I’d reply, trying to keep things nonchalant. My joy didn’t belong to them. “I’m learning so much.”
Daniel, for his part, seemed bewildered. “I don’t get it,” he complained one day. “Why does Elena get an internship and not me?”
Mom patted his hand. “Well, sweetie, that’s because you’re still young. You’ll get an even better one later.”
I rolled my eyes. Of course, they had to placate the favorite.
A teenage girl at the dinner table | Source: Midjourney
As the school year progressed, I started putting together my portfolio for college applications. Ava was an incredible mentor, who guided me through the process and helped me choose my best work.
“You’ve got a real talent, Elena,” she told me one afternoon in her office after hours. She had kindly stayed back, so I could finish up my plans. “These schools would be lucky to have you.”
Her words gave me the confidence to aim high. I applied to some of the top design programs in the country, including Ava’s alma mater.
A young woman writing on a notebook | Source: Pexels
Afterward, the waiting was agony, but finally, it happened. I was in the basement, touching up some paint on my bookshelf, when I heard Mom call down.
“Elena? There’s a big envelope here for you.”
I took the stairs two at a time and ripped the envelope from her hands. “Dear Elena, We are pleased to offer you admission to our School of Design…” My knees went weak, but it only got better!
A big envelope | Source: Pexels
I couldn’t believe it. Not only had I gotten in, but I’d been offered a full scholarship by the school, the same one Ava attended.
“Well?” Mom asked and gave me a tight smile. “What does it say?”
“I got in. Full ride,” I said, looking up as my eyes watered.
For a moment, there was silence. Then, she went back upstairs. She couldn’t even muster a small congratulation.
A serious older woman | Source: Pexels
My dad said nothing at dinner, and Daniel was somehow angry.
I felt their bitterness. But I didn’t care. Finally, I had what I wanted. Ava held a small celebration for me at the office, and Aunt Teresa held a big bash. It was all I needed.
The next room I decorated was my dorm… then, I redecorated my entire life with colors that shone like my soul, the patterns that made the world unique, and the family I made along the way, who were as supportive as a nice, cozy bed frame that lasts for decades.
A teenage girl happy | Source: Midjourney
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.
People Relate Their Most Memorable Instances of Instant Justice
Whether it’s a cheating spouse, an entitled individual, or a selfish family member, karma spares no one. These five stories showcase how it serves justice even when things seem like they’ve gone out of control.
Karma, the cosmic force of cause and effect, often works in mysterious ways. But sometimes, it strikes with immediate and undeniable impact.
In this collection, we present five stories where wrongdoers faced instant consequences, reminding us that what goes around truly does come around.
1. My Sister Threw Our Grandpa a Birthday Party but Demanded That He Pay for It When the Bill Came — Karma Retaliated
When my younger sister Ariel offered to plan Grandpa’s 90th birthday, I knew things would go awry, but I didn’t expect this. The first odd thing I noticed was the party venue.
Ariel chose a sushi restaurant for the party knowing well that Grandpa didn’t like sushi. To make matters worse, the guests were mostly her loud university friends. Grandpa’s friends and relatives? She didn’t even invite them.
When I confronted her during the party, she brushed off my concerns saying Grandpa was “happy to hang out with the youth” when he was clearly feeling out of place.
It seemed like Ariel had thrown a party for her friends while Grandpa just sat in a corner. I felt so terrible for him.
Then, just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, Ariel handed the bill to Grandpa.
“Here you go, Gramps! Happy birthday! Time to pay up!” she laughed, oblivious to the disaster.
I couldn’t stay quiet.
“Ariel, what are you doing? Gramps shouldn’t pay for his own birthday!”
I snatched the bill, but Gramps, always the peacekeeper, offered to pay.
“It’s alright, Jocelyn. I can handle it,” he said.
I wasn’t letting that happen.
“Let me take care of this, Gramps,” I smiled. “You’ve done enough for all of us.”
Then, as Ariel went back to her friends, I asked the bartender for the aux cable. I pretended I wanted to play a special song for Grandpa.
Instead, I plugged the cable into my phone and played Ariel’s voice messages where she was ranting about her friends. The same friends who were sitting right there.
“I can’t stand my roommate!” her voice echoed across the room. “She’s always in my space, and her boyfriend is the worst. He’s such a slob, and she’s just as bad!”
I watched in silence as Ariel’s jaw dropped open and her friends looked at her with wide eyes. Soon, all of her friends left, and she just sat there in silence.
Ariel knew why I’d played the audio, and didn’t have the guts to confront me.
That’s when Gramps, ever wise, looked at Ariel and said, “Ariel, you need to take responsibility for your actions. This isn’t how we treat family or friends.”
“I’m sorry, Grandpa,” Ariel apologized.
Grandpa and I didn’t have to say a lot to make her realize how wrong it was to invite her friends to Grandpa’s birthday party, and then ask him to pay the bill. Karma had done its job, and I was sure Ariel wouldn’t dare do such an immature thing again.
2. Man in Walmart Demanded That I Give up My Wheelchair for His Tired Wife – Karma Got Him before I Could
I was rolling through Walmart in my wheelchair when Mr. Entitled blocked my path.
“My wife’s tired. Give her your wheelchair,” he demanded, gesturing to the woman behind him.
I blinked, thinking it was some weird joke. “Uh, sorry, what?”
“You heard me,” he snapped. “She’s been on her feet all day. You’re young, you can walk.”
“I can’t walk,” I explained. “That’s why I need this chair.”
But he wasn’t buying it.
“You’re faking it!” he barked, his face growing red.
Things escalated quickly as a Walmart employee, Miguel, intervened.
“Sir, we can’t ask someone to give up a mobility aid,” Miguel said calmly.
But Mr. Entitled kept yelling, demanding a manager and ranting about my supposed “fraud.” Just as he stepped back, karma struck. LITERALLY.
He stumbled into a display of canned vegetables, crashing to the floor as cans rolled everywhere.
His wife rushed over, while Mr. Entitled tried to get up, only to slip on another can and fall again.
The whole store was watching at that point, and I couldn’t suppress a laugh. Miguel tried his best to help him, but Mr. Entitled ranted about suing the store before his wife hurried him out.
I still wonder what would’ve happened next if she wasn’t there.
3. I Came Home to See My Furniture Put up for Grabs — My Ex-husband’s Petty Revenge Backfired Spectacularly
After about four years of marriage, Brendan and I decided to split. I won’t go into the details behind it, but all I knew was he had become so much bitter after this decision. It was getting too unbearable to stay with him in the same house.
As a result, I went to my parents’ house to clear my mind one weekend. But when I returned, I found all my furniture scattered across the lawn.
A large, hand-painted sign that read “Free Stuff!” stood proudly in front of the chaos, inviting anyone passing by to help themselves to my belongings.
Furious, I kicked the sign over and immediately called Brendan.
“Why is my furniture on the lawn?” I demanded.
“You were going to sue for all my money anyway,” he said. “I heard you on the phone with someone. I know that you wanted everything. Or at least half of everything! So, you might as well know how it feels to lose what’s yours.”
Sure, I had thought about taking him for a ride and having my share of his money, but the weekend away with my parents taught me to just let it go.
“You’re absolutely unbelievable,” I yelled. “You think this is going to solve anything? You’re just making things worse for yourself.”
“Whatever. It’s your problem now,” he replied. “Maybe you should charge people for your things instead of letting them take it for free.”
I was speechless. I knew arguing with him was pointless, so I hung up.
I looked around at the furniture, thinking if I could ask a friend to store these things until I found a new place. That’s when my gaze landed on the bedside table, and I remembered what was there inside the drawer.
It was Brendan’s father’s prized watch.
It was a family heirloom that Brendan cherished, but now I had it hostage.
A few hours later, I was at a friend’s place who had helped me store the furniture in her garage and offered me a place to stay. We were having pizza when Brendan called, realizing he’d left the watch in the drawer.
“Please, Gina, I need the watch back,” he pleaded.
“The neighbors took the bedside tables,” I lied. “You might have to buy it back from them.”
After making him sweat, he eventually offered $500 to “buy it back.”
The next morning, he handed me an envelope, while I handed over the watch. I can never forget the defeated look on his face!
4. My Parents Spent All My College Fund Inheritance from Grandpa, but Karma Struck Back
After my grandfather passed, he left his entire inheritance to me for college, but the money was kept in my parents’ account until I turned 18.
When I checked at 19, the account was empty.
Furious, I confronted my parents and learned the truth: they had drained the funds to bail out my brother, who had squandered his finances on a luxury car and debts. Worse, they used the remaining money for a lavish house.
“How could you sacrifice my future for his mistakes?” I demanded, devastated by their betrayal.
My parents offered weak excuses, prioritizing my brother over my dreams. I can’t explain how abandoned and betrayed I felt.
As a result, I cut off contact with them and worked toward my career. I got a job, found a grant, and enrolled in another university. As years passed, I became financially stable and even started paying for my own house.
Then, karma struck.
I was in my office when I received a call from my brother.
“Can we meet?” he asked. “Please don’t say no.”
I hesitated, but curiosity got the better of me. When we finally met, he was unexpectedly warm, still, I remained skeptical. It wasn’t long before he asked me for money to help our parents.
It turned out that my parents’ house investment had collapsed, leaving them in debt. I knew this was karma doing its job, but I didn’t feel good. I felt bad because they were my parents, and I still loved them.
So, I decided to visit them. I still remember how they broke down in tears and begged for forgiveness. They had realized what they had done, so I forgave them.
5. My Husband Cheated on Me With Secretary, Then Karma Crushed Him Back
My husband Brody and I met at work, and we continued with the same jobs after our wedding. I always thought working with him in the same office was so cool until I caught him cheating with his secretary, Lila.
I still remember how I couldn’t even move when I caught him caressing her legs in front of everyone at the office. My heart sank as I realized how publicly he was flaunting his affair.
“Brody, what’s going on here?” I confronted him.
He didn’t even flinch.
“We’re discussing work,” he said, with Lila smirking beside him.
“By putting your hands up her skirt?” I asked, looking straight into his eyes. “In front of everyone?”
“Don’t make a scene, Shirley,” he snapped. “You should be grateful I’m still coming home. But I’m done. I’m filing for divorce, and I’ll take the house. You deserve nothing.”
I was too shocked to react. I just quietly watched him walk away with Lila.
That night, I didn’t have the guts to go home. Instead, I sat in a cheap hotel room, crying and questioning everything.
Was this really my life? I thought. How did I let it get this bad?
The next morning, I dragged myself to work, dreading the looks I knew I’d get from my coworkers. Sure enough, their gazes were filled with pity.
I wanted to disappear, to resign and leave it all behind. But I couldn’t.
The thought of not finding another job scared me. I had bills to pay, and starting over wasn’t something I could afford. Little did I know that fate would soon turn my life in a better direction.
A few days later, the company hired a new boss, Mr. Anderson. Word spread fast that he was sharp, no-nonsense, and talented. As a result, everyone kept their head down and focused on work.
Then came the bombshell. Brody was fired.
It turned out he had been skimming money from the company for months, manipulating the finances in ways he thought no one would ever notice. But Mr. Anderson spotted the discrepancies almost immediately.
Brody’s arrogance had finally caught up with him, and the man who flaunted his affair so proudly was now out of a job.
I won’t lie, I felt a small sense of satisfaction. Karma had done its job, and I hadn’t even lifted a finger. But the story doesn’t end here.
Brody showed up at my door a few weeks after that. He mumbled something about making mistakes and how he missed me. He wanted back into my life, but I stood firm.
“No, Brody,” I said sternly. “You made your choices, and now you have to live with them. I’m done.”
And with that, I closed the door in his face, feeling stronger than I had in years.
Leave a Reply