Anh88, 2089 Jerome Avenue, Chicago, IL (2025)

11/02/2025

My stepmom stole my late mom's $25K inheritance to buy her son a jeep — karma made her pay THREE TIMES OVER. ______________________________________ My mom died when I was 9. Before she passed, she set up a $25K trust for me for when I turned 18. "For college or your first home," she said. My dad promised to protect it. Then came Tracy — my stepmom. Sweet voice, fake smile. After she married Dad, everything shifted. He died suddenly when I was 15, and she became my guardian. She made it very clear I wasn't family. Her son, Connor, got everything — new clothes, a new iPhone, and steak dinners. I got his torn hand-me-downs. When I asked for a new jacket, she sneered, "BE GRATEFUL YOU HAVE ANYTHING!" Then she made me move to the basement — cold concrete, a thin mattress, no heat. She called it "teaching humility." Connor called me "RAT BOY." I ate scraps while they had full meals upstairs. I counted down the days until I turned 18 — until I could take my inheritance and finally leave. My birthday came. She threw a fake dinner, even hugged me. But when I asked about my trust, she smiled tightly and said, "HONEY… THAT MONEY'S GONE!" "Gone?" I asked. "What do you mean, gone?" She started with fake sweetness. "YOU'VE LIVED HERE RENT-FREE FOR YEARS. DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH FOOD AND ELECTRICITY COST? I USED THAT MONEY FOR HOUSEHOLD NEEDS." "Household needs?" I repeated. "You mean Connor's Jeep?" Her voice hardened. "DON'T YOU RAISE YOUR VOICE AT ME. THAT CAR WAS FOR THE FAMILY. YOU'LL USE IT TOO—" I was shaking. "You don't even let me upstairs," I said. She just smirked. "WATCH YOUR TONE! YOU SHOULD THANK ME FOR RAISING YOU AT ALL!" Later, Mom's lawyer confirmed it — she'd drained it months ago, legally, as my guardian. I worked, kept my head down, and waited. Then karma came knocking on my stepmom's door and made her pay three times over.⬇️⬇️⬇️

11/02/2025

I fed a homeless man who paid and left a note under his plate — I gasped when I unfolded it _____________________________________________ I (24F) had just started at The Golden Fork, a fancy new restaurant downtown. Real linens, live piano, rich guests who actually tipped — a huge step up from the greasy diner I used to work at. My coworker, Lila (27F), joined the same week. We got along fine at first, but she had this obsession with appearances: rich people, being noticed, looking "the part." One Thursday, the place was packed. Then the door opened and everyone WAS STUNNED. A homeless man walked in — muddy shoes, matted beard, the works. People turned away. Even the piano player STOPPED. "OH HELL NO," Lila muttered. "HE'S GONNA SCARE OFF THE CUSTOMERS!" She went to the host. "WE CAN'T SEAT HIM, RIGHT?!" "He asked politely. The manager's out," he said shrugging. Lila rolled her eyes. "Not my problem." So I stepped in to help the poor man. He looked at me with a shy smile. "Hi… could I get a menu, please?" Polite. Educated even. "Of course. Take your time," I said. He ordered soup and coffee. Lila whispered, "HE WON'T PAY. YOU'LL COVER IT." "I don't mind. He's hungry," I said quietly. When I brought the food, he looked up. "Thanks… it's been a while since someone looked me in the eye." He ate slowly, carefully, like every bite mattered. When he finished, he folded his napkin neatly and put it under the plate. But when I picked it up… I FROZE, then gasped: "OH MY GOD!"⬇️⬇️⬇️

11/02/2025

I'm 46, and two years ago I lost my husband and our two children in a car accident. Since then, I haven't really been living — just existing. One cold afternoon, while waiting for the bus, I noticed a flyer pinned to the stop. It showed a group of smiling kids from a children's shelter and read: "Halloween Costume Drive — Help our kids celebrate!" It said many of them had never dressed up before. For the first time in months, something stirred inside me. When I got home, I went up to the attic and opened an old box. Inside were the costumes I'd sewn for my own children — a bumblebee, a firefighter, a princess with crooked sequins. I sat on the floor for a long time, holding them, then decided: they should make other kids happy, not gather dust. I dropped them off the next day — but it didn't feel like enough. So I posted on Facebook, talked to neighbors, and even bought a few new costumes myself. By the weekend, my car was overflowing. When I delivered everything, the staff thanked me and invited me to their Halloween party. At first I almost declined — but something told me to go. That day, I had no idea that my small act of kindness was about to change my whole life completely! The kids sang songs, laughed, and proudly showed off their new costumes. And for the first time in two years, I smiled without forcing it. After the concert, I turned to leave when I heard someone call my name. I looked back — and froze. In front of me stood a little girl in a bumblebee costume. ⬇️

11/02/2025

My wife called me at work and said she couldn't pick up our 5-year-old daughter from kindergarten because she had a very important meeting. She asked me to do it instead. Usually, she's the one who picks Lizzy up, since I work longer hours and rarely can. But since this was an exception, I agreed and left work early. While helping Lizzy put on her jacket, she suddenly said, "Daddy, why didn't THE NEW DADDY pick me up like he usually does?" I froze. "What do you mean, sweetheart? What new daddy?" "Well, the new daddy. He always takes me to Mommy's office, and then we go home together. Sometimes we go for walks too. We went to the zoo recently. And he comes over when you're not home." "Oh, I see," I managed to say, my voice tight. "He couldn't make it today, so I came instead. Aren't you happy?" "Of course I am! I don't like calling him daddy, even though he keeps asking me to. So I call him the new daddy." "Alright, alright," I said. We drove home while she chatted about her day, but my mind was spinning. What the hell did she mean? Who was this "new daddy"? And since when did my wife bring Lizzy to her office? So I decided to take a day off and find out. The next day—Friday—I parked where I could see the kindergarten entrance. My wife, Sophia, was supposed to pick Lizzy up. But Lizzy walked out with someone else. My knuckles went white on the steering wheel when I saw who it was. "What the hell," I muttered. Because I knew that "new daddy."⬇️

11/02/2025

We came home to find our Halloween decorations completely destroyed! Our neighborhood goes all out for the holidays — Halloween and Christmas are practically community events. My kids live for it. Every October, we cover the yard with fake cobwebs, glowing ghosts, and carved pumpkins lined up along the walkway. Last year, the kids begged to make it "extra spooky." We spent the whole weekend decorating — hanging bats from the porch, painting skeletons on cardboard, even putting a motion-sensor witch near the door that screamed when you walked by. A few days before Halloween, we took the kids to my mom's place so they could spend a few days there. When we returned, we froze on the driveway. The yard was destroyed. Our pumpkins were smashed into orange mush. The cobwebs were ripped down, and the lights were torn apart. One of the ghosts was lying face down in the mud. When the kids saw it, they started crying. My husband tried to calm them, saying, "We'll fix it, don't worry," but I saw the anger in his face. We decided to check the security camera. However, when he pulled up the footage, the screen remained black, as the camera had been turned off. So we went door to door, asking our neighbors if anyone had seen anything. Finally, Mr. Jenkins across the street pulled up his camera feed — and there it was: the person who destroyed everything. My husband went pale when he saw the face. So did I.⬇️

11/02/2025

Before her death, my mom left me her woodland cabin. It was sacred to me. We used to spend September evenings there, picking blackberries and drinking instant coffee. One Tuesday, I'd had a terrible day at work. A client screamed at me and a colleague stole my idea. Visiting my mom's cabin was the only thing that could save the day. So, I went there ON IMPULSE. I needed silence. I pulled onto the dirt road and saw MY HUSBAND'S CAR. I stopped. He HATED the cabin. He told me that many times. "It's too far," or "You spend more on gas than you'd save in therapy." I walked quietly to the window, thinking he wanted to surprise me. I pressed my forehead to the glass and went pale. HE WAS ON THE COUCH WITH A WOMAN ON HIS LAP. I couldn't breathe. I backed out and drove straight home. I needed a plan. The next day, I bought a set of wireless security cameras and secretly installed them at the cabin. They revealed that every week he would bring A NEW WOMAN. He was cheating on me in my sacred place! Instead of confronting him, I decided to teach him a lesson. BUT I NEEDED TIME. So I acted like nothing was wrong. I made him dinner and asked about his day. Two weeks later, I suggested we should go away for a weekend to the cabin. He said, "Sure! We haven't been there FOR AGES!" Oh, how pathetic of him. He had no idea WHAT was waiting for him. At around 10 p.m., the porch light flickered, and somebody's car arrived. "Make yourselves comfortable," I said with a smug smile. THE SHOW WAS ABOUT TO START IN 3...2...1. ⬇️

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11/02/2025

My son was remarrying after losing his wife. His fiancée didn't invite his 5-year-old son to the wedding — but I brought him anyway. I just wanted one photo of him with his father. Still, the bride refused. "No," she said flatly. "Absolutely not. I don't want him in these photos." "Just one," I said. "Just him and Matthew." "HE'S NOT MY CHILD!" she said sharply. Loud enough for the bridesmaids to glance over. "I don't want him in any photos. Please take him away!" I pulled her aside and whispered, "What do you mean not yours? Wendy, he's Matthew's son, and you're his wife now. You have to accept the child!" "No, I don't!" Wendy snapped. "We agreed it would be just the two of us. I DON'T NEED THE BOY. GOT IT?" I was taken aback. So, at the reception, when it was time for the toast, I stood with my glass raised high.⬇️

Anh88

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