This Is How I Won a Prank War My Neighbor and I Had Going for the past Year
It started off innocently enough. Selene parked her car in the wrong parking spot, fueling a prank war with Paul, the real owner of the parking spot. As the months went by, the pair continued their prank war, but Selen started to wonder about the future of these seemingly innocent practical jokes. She took matters into her own hands and asked Paul out for dinner, under the guise of someone else. Will it be the ultimate prank or something more?
It all began with a parking mishap. It was just one innocent mistake that spiraled into a year-long prank war with my neighbor, Paul.
An apartment building parking lot | Source: Unsplash
One evening, I accidentally parked in Paul’s parking spot in our apartment building’s lot. It was late, I was exhausted, and I just wanted to crawl into bed.
I didn’t think much of it until the next morning when I was on my way to the office. There, on my car, on an empty takeaway cup, a note was scrawled in messy handwriting.
A woman sleeping in bed | Source: Pexels
Thanks for ruining my day.
“Oh, crap,” I said to myself when I sat in the car. I needed to make amends.
A woman sitting in a car | Source: Pexels
The following morning, I left a warm cup of coffee on Paul’s car roof with a note that read:
Sorry for the mix-up. I hope this makes up for it.
A person holding a cup of coffee | Source: Pexels
If you’re wondering, Paul and I didn’t know each other. We just lived in the same apartment block and knew everyone’s names and door numbers.
A few days later, I found a bill from a car-washing service under my windshield wiper. It seemed that Paul didn’t notice the coffee that I left and spilled it all over his car when he drove off.
A car in a car wash | Source: Pexels
I refused to pay the bill, and thus, the little war began.
“I think that you and this mysterious Paul are either going to fall in love or end up despising each other,” my friend Daphne said at work.
A smiling woman holding a folder | Source: Pexels
“Probably the latter,” I said. “It was all fine until he gave me a bill.”
“Selene,” she said knowingly, “I’m telling you, this is just the beginning.”
The next day, I left my work phone number on his car.
Call me regarding the payment.
A piece of paper on a car | Source: Midjourney
Paul called me later that evening.
“Really? You thought that leaving coffee on the roof of a car was a good idea?” he asked, going straight into it.
“How was I supposed to know that you’d drive off without looking? Besides, it was a peace offering!”
A man using a phone | Source: Unsplash
“More like a disaster,” he said. “It was all over my window. Pay the car wash bill, please.”
“I’m not paying for it,” I said, hanging up.
After that, the pranks escalated quickly.
Spilled coffee in the air | Source: Pexels
“I told you,” Daphne said when she came home with me one evening. “It’s going to get more intense. You need to listen to me. Trust me on this, you and this guy are going to get under each other’s skin.”
“I don’t know about that, Daph,” I said, dishing out the curry we had bought for dinner.
Bowls of curry and rice | Source: Unsplash
“But you’re having fun?” she asked, tearing into a piece of bread.
“I am!” I said. “Mainly because it’s nothing serious.”
Flatbread on a board | Source: Pexels
One day, I found my car doors wrapped in plastic wrap.
The next week, I retaliated by covering Paul’s car in sticky notes, each one asking him to fix his parking.
A person tearing through plastic wrap | Source: Pexels
“If it rains tonight,” Paul said, immediately calling me after seeing the sticky notes, “you’ll have a mushy mess of paper to clean up.”
“I think you’ll figure it out for yourself,” I said, hiding behind my curtain.
A car covered in sticky notes | Source: Midjourney
I had to admit, I was attracted to him. I didn’t know if Paul knew who I was, but it was easier for me to watch him from my apartment. I had gotten used to watching him wash his car.
It turned out that it was comforting. There was a sense of intimacy that we had built up.
A person hiding behind blinds | Source: Unsplash
After months of back-and-forth pranks, ranging from balloons tied onto car handles and window wipers, to fake parking tickets, I decided that it was time to end the war.
“But you need a grand finale,” Daphne said as we sat in our office, trying to work through month-end reports.
A woman using a laptop | Source: Pexels
“Like what?” I asked, typing away at my keyboard.
“You’re into him, right?” she asked, sipping her coffee.
“I think so,” I said. “But I don’t know much about him.”
A woman drinking coffee | Source: Pexels
“Then get to know him,” my friend pressed on. “There’s something there; if not, this would have ended a long time ago.”
“Fine,” I said. “But you write the note. He knows my handwriting now.”
We intended to write a note from a secret admirer.
A person writing a note | Source: Pexels
“She can just be someone from your apartment,” Daphne said. “And it’s not like you and Paul have even interacted in person, Selene. To be honest, I don’t know how you’ve managed to stay anonymous for so long.”
“It’s the thrill of it,” I said.
A smiling woman | Source: Unsplash
Early the next morning, I left the note that Daphne had written on Paul’s car.
Hey, I saw you leaving your car and couldn’t help but notice how handsome you are. Let’s have dinner?
I added my personal number that he wouldn’t recognize at the bottom.
A folded piece of paper | Source: Midjourney
To my surprise, Paul called me later that morning.
“Selene, you’ll never guess what happened!” he said excitedly. “Some woman left me a note on my car.”
“Really?” I asked, feigning surprise. “What did it say?”
A woman on the phone | Source: Pexels
“She said that I was handsome and she wanted to have dinner. She left her number, too. So, I’m going to text her and go.”
Paul took the bait and texted me. We set up a date, and I, still pretending to be someone else, agreed to meet him at a local restaurant.
A table at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
I was already seated, suddenly nervous. We had been at this for so long; what if everything blew up in my face?
What if I was living in a romantic comedy and Paul actually couldn’t stand me?
Almost ready to leave, Paul walked into the restaurant.
A man in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
“Hey, you’re here! You look familiar,” he said. “But I suppose I have seen you around the building.”
He spoke quickly, as though he was just as nervous.
“I’m sure that’s exactly it,” I said, smiling.
A smiling man | Source: Pexels
“Your voice reminds me of my neighbor, Selene. I’m sure you’ve seen us pranking each other recently,” he chuckled, his eyes glazing over as if lost in a memory.
“What’s that been like?” I asked.
A smiling woman at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
“Well, Daphne,” he said, as I had introduced myself over text, “it’s been hilarious. It’s been the best few months of my life.”
“It sounds like she’s grown on you,” I said, smiling.
“She’s feisty, all right,” he said, ordering himself a whiskey.
A man holding a glass of whiskey | Source: Pexels
The rest of the evening went by smoothly, but the more Paul spoke, the more I found myself genuinely enjoying his company. He was charming, funny, and surprisingly sweet.
By the time our meals arrived, I couldn’t keep the truth from him any longer.
Plates of food at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
“Paul,” I said, picking up my cocktail, “there’s something I need to tell you.”
“What’s that?” he asked, looking me in the eye.
“I haven’t been very honest about this date,” I said slowly. “I’m Selene.”
A cocktail on a table | Source: Pexels
Paul’s jaw dropped.
“Wait, really?” he asked. “Why did you want to meet like this?”
“I don’t know,” I replied honestly. “Call it insecurity? Daphne is my best friend; I asked her to write the note, and I used her name. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have deceived you.”
A shocked man | Source: Pexels
“No, no,” he said, a large smile forming on his face. “I’ve never had this much fun with anyone. I’m glad we got to meet. Finally.”
The rest of the evening went much smoother, knowing that we had something in common. It was something to bond over. And more than that, there was chemistry between us. It wasn’t just me.
“I’m glad we did this,” Paul said as we went our separate ways in the parking lot. “It needed to happen.”
An empty parking lot | Source: Pexels
“And now, we’re here,” I said, taking his hand, suddenly feeling brave.
I don’t know where our relationship will go or what it will become, but I do know that I’ve taken the first step toward something.
What would you have done?
A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels
Granddad Forbids Anyone from Touching His Old Mattress, Girl Finds Stash There after His Death – Story of the Day
Inside her late grandfather’s mattress, Brooke uncovers a stash that shatters everything she thought she knew about her parents’ death. But this hidden secret doesn’t just affect her; it threatens to destroy the entire town.
Brooke stood in the doorway of her grandfather’s bedroom, her nose prickling as memories flooded her mind. Her breath came in unevenly as she remembered all the times she had visited him, almost hearing Granddad Charles’s hearty laugh echoing through the halls.
“I can’t believe he’s truly gone,” she whispered, running her hand along the old oak dresser.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
The room smelled of old books and the faint scent of Granddad’s favorite pipe tobacco and his signature Aqua Velva aftershave.
After a moment, Brooke’s eyes fell on a framed photo of her parents on the nightstand. She was truly alone in this world now, as they had died years ago in a freak car accident.
As she began the daunting task of sorting through Granddad’s belongings, her mind wandered to how Granddad had never allowed anyone to touch his bed.
“Don’t you ever touch that mattress, young lady,” Granddad would say whenever Brooke jumped and bounced on the surface as a child. “It’s got more secrets than you can imagine.”
Now, standing before that very bed, Brooke felt an irresistible pull. She lifted one corner of the mattress, figuring that any secret would be hidden beneath.
She didn’t actually expect to find anything, much less something that would change everything. Beneath the mattress lay a small leather-bound book, yellowed newspaper clippings, and a stack of photographs.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“Oh, Granddad,” Brooke breathed, “what were you hiding?”
She took the items and sifted through the papers. As she read, her eyebrows raised in surprise. For some reason, Granddad had meticulously documented the investigation into her parents’ “accident.”
He had been obsessed with it, claiming the police officers were corrupt, despite having served as a cop for decades himself. He had insisted that something was wrong.
Brooke hadn’t believed him then, but now, with the evidence before her, she felt compelled to dig deeper. Investigating this matter suddenly became her entire focus.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“Mr. Johnson was seen leaving the Starlight Lounge, visibly intoxicated,” she read aloud. “Officer Parker waved him through a checkpoint.”
Brooke’s hands trembled as she pieced together the truth that her granddad had uncovered: the police had covered up the drunk driving of a wealthy person in town who run into her parents.
Hot, angry tears streamed down her face, but she refused to break down from the unfairness and frustration. She knew she had to do something about this information.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“I’ll finish what you started, Granddad,” Brooke vowed. “They won’t get away with this.”
***
The next day, Brooke marched into the offices of the local newspaper, her granddad’s evidence tucked safely in her bag.
The bustling newsroom barely noticed her arrival, but she didn’t care.
Brooke walked straight to an editor’s office and blurted out, “I’ve got a story you need to hear!”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
The gruff man sitting behind the desk looked up from his reading and leaned back in his chair, eyeing Brooke warily. “Hello, young lady. I’m Frank, and I have to tell you, we get a lot of people in here claiming to have the next big scoop. What makes yours special?”
Brooke took a deep breath, sat in the chair opposite the editor, and began to lay out the facts. As she spoke, Frank’s expression changed from doubt to intrigue.
After a few minutes, he leaned forward, resting his head on his linked hands, clearly captivated by the story unfolding before him.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pixabay
“This is explosive stuff, Ms. Taylor,” he said when she finished. “Are you sure you want to go public with this? There could be serious consequences.”
Brooke’s eyes flashed with determination. “Sir, I’ve spent years wondering why the universe took my parents. Every birthday, every holiday, every milestone in my life since they died has been overshadowed by this unanswered question. Now that I know it wasn’t just fate, but foul play, I can’t sit on it. This isn’t just about my family anymore. It’s about every person in this town who’s been told to accept injustice because that’s just how things are.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Frank studied her for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Alright, Ms. Taylor. We’ll run the story. But I need you to understand something. This isn’t going to be easy. People are going to come after you, try to discredit you, and maybe even threaten you. Are you prepared for that?”
“My grandfather was a cop for thirty years,” Brooke responded. “He taught me that doing the right thing isn’t always easy, but it’s always necessary. I’m ready for whatever comes.”
Frank’s face softened slightly. “Your grandfather sounds like he was a good man. Alright, let’s get to work. We’ve got a lot to do if we’re going to break this story wide open.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
***
The story hit the front page the following week, and Brooke’s phone buzzed constantly with messages of support and outrage.
She also took to social media, sharing the link to the story and rallying people to demand justice.
“My parents deserved better,” she wrote in a viral post. “We all deserve better from those sworn to protect us.”
As public pressure mounted, the police department grudgingly reopened the case.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
Brooke watched with grim satisfaction as Officer Parker, the officer in charge of the original investigation, squirmed under questioning during a special press conference.
“We had no choice,” he finally admitted. “Mr. Johnson’s family has connections. We were told to make it go away.”
The Johnson family was indeed wealthy and influential, owning many businesses in the area and having funded the campaigns of several local government officials.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
The revelation sent shockwaves through the community, leading to protests outside the police station as citizens demanded accountability and transparency.
Protesters also gathered at Mr. Johnson’s and his family’s known properties in town. The Johnson family quickly lawyered up and hired PR representatives to try to discredit Brooke.
However, in this political climate, people were more inclined to believe the young woman who had lost everything. The community’s support for Brooke only grew stronger, and the pressure on the Johnson family and local officials intensified.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
While walking down the street one day, Brooke was suddenly surrounded by a swarm of reporters.
“Ms. Taylor, some people are saying you’re doing this for attention or financial gain. How do you respond to that?” one journalist asked.
Brooke’s eyes flashed with emotion, but she took a deep breath before responding. “I lost my parents when I was eight years old. Do you know what that’s like? I’m not doing this for fame or money. I’m doing it because for years, I’ve had a hole in my heart where my parents should be, and my granddad believed something was wrong. How could I possibly stay silent?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Her voice broke slightly, but she continued
“This isn’t just about me. It’s about every family who’s lost someone because people in power decided their lives were less important than protecting the wealthy and influential. It’s about making sure no other child has to grow up feeling like their parents’ lives didn’t matter. So no, I don’t care about attention or money. I care about justice, pure and simple.”
As the investigation progressed, more details emerged. It turned out that Mr. Johnson had a history of drunk driving incidents that had been swept under the rug, further fueling the community’s outrage and deepening the scandal.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
Other families came forward with similar stories of injustice, further exposing the depth of corruption in the town.
Months later, a trial was set, becoming a media circus. Each day, the courthouse steps were crowded with reporters and protesters.
Inside a cold courtroom, Brooke sat stoically as Mr. Johnson finally faced justice.
The prosecution presented a damning case, bolstered by the evidence her granddad had gathered. Brooke testified about the emotional and financial strains her small family suffered after her parents’ death, vividly describing the pain and loss they endured.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
But Brooke also added her own emotions, and the judge allowed her to speak. “My grandfather never stopped searching for the truth,” she said. “He knew something wasn’t right, and he refused to let it go. I’m here to finish what he started.”
As the trial neared its end, the Johnson family contacted the D.A.’s office, hoping for a settlement. The prosecutors consulted Brooke, but she refused any monetary offer.
“Money was always how the Johnsons solved things,” she thought. “Not anymore!”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
The case continued, and on the last day, Mr. Johnson stood and looked at Brooke. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I know it doesn’t change anything, but I truly am sorry.”
Brooke simply nodded.
The case concluded, and the jury took a couple of days to deliberate. The courtroom was hushed as they filed in.
“How do you find the defendant?” the judge asked.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Guilty, Your Honor,” the jury foreman replied.
A collective gasp rippled through the room. Brooke closed her eyes and felt a wave of relief wash over her. We did it, Granddad!
The aftermath of the trial brought sweeping changes to the town. Several corrupt officers were fired, and new policies were implemented to ensure greater accountability.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
The case and her story were the talk of the town for a long time, but Brooke didn’t care about the attention. Justice had been served, and Mr. Johnson would spend several years in jail.
Now, it was time to look to the future, and perhaps… help others find justice too.
For illustration purposes only | 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.
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