After a week of sun and sand, Catherine was shocked to discover her new neighbor Jeffrey had built an imposing fence on her property. As a single mom, she couldn’t let this slide. What did she do to teach him a lesson he’d never forget?
Life as a single mom isn’t easy, but I’ve been making it work. I’m Catherine, 40 years old, and I’ve been raising my two boys, Liam (10) and Chris (8), all by myself for the past year.
Their father and I parted ways when I caught him cheating with another woman. Well, that’s a story for another time.
About two months ago, I bought a new house and moved in with my kids. It’s in a peaceful neighborhood with a beautiful forest nearby.
Everything about our new neighborhood seemed perfect until I met my next-door neighbor, Jeffrey. We had been at odds since the beginning.
I’ll never forget our first interaction.
It had been a day since we moved in when I heard a knock at my door. I opened it and saw him standing at my doorstep with a folder in his hand.
“Hello there, neighbor!” he said, extending his hand. “I’m Jeffrey. Welcome to the neighborhood!”
I shook his hand.
How nice! I thought. If only I knew what was coming in the days ahead.
“I wanted to discuss something important with you,” he continued, opening his folder.
“The previous owners signed this contract allowing me to build a fence on the property line.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Okay…?”
“So, I’ll be starting construction next week,” he said matter-of-factly.
I was stunned. “Excuse me? You’re not even asking for my permission?”
“Well, I have the contract right here—”
“That contract was with the previous owners,” I interrupted. “I’m the owner now, and I don’t want a fence blocking my view and sunlight.”
That’s when his face turned red.
“But I need this fence for privacy!” he yelled. “I’ve been planning this for months!”
“Why should I care about what the FORMER owner said?” I asked, but I never got a straight answer.
I just saw Jeffrey stomp out of my house.
Since that day, he’s been arguing with me almost every week about this fence. Apparently, he wants to host fancy garden parties without his guests seeing into my yard.
Well, excuse me for existing!
I couldn’t let him build that fence. I didn’t buy this house to stare at wooden planks instead of the beautiful sky and trees.
Little did I know, things were about to get much worse.
A few weeks ago, I decided to take my boys on a much-needed vacation. Liam and Chris were bouncing off the walls with excitement.
“Mom, can we go to the beach?” Liam asked.
Chris chimed in, “Yeah! And can we build a huge sandcastle?”
“Of course, boys!” I said as I hugged them. “We’ll do all that and more!”
We left for a week, looking forward to sun, sand, and relaxation. If only I’d known what was waiting for us when we got back.
As we pulled into our driveway, I noticed something odd. My heart sank as I realized what had happened.
“Boys, stay in the car for a minute,” I said as I got out.
My blood boiled with each step I took toward our house.
As I peeked to the right, I realized what had happened. There, right in front of our windows, stood a tall wooden fence. On our property. One foot from my windows!
“What the hell?!” I shouted, not caring who heard me.
Liam and Chris came running up behind me.
“Mom, what’s wrong?” Chris asked in a worried voice.
I took a deep breath. I had to stay calm for their sake. “Nothing, sweetie. Just a little… surprise from our neighbor.”
“But Mom,” Liam said, frowning, “we can’t see the trees anymore.”
My heart broke.
Jeffrey’s stupid fence had replaced the beautiful view from our windows that my boys loved so much. Now, we couldn’t even see the sky!
I couldn’t let this slide. I had to teach Jeffrey a lesson.
I had two options. Either take the legal route and wait for the authorities to take action or take matters into my own hands.
I chose the second one because my boys and I didn’t have enough time to take the legal route.
Later that night, I went to the pet store. I had a plan that I knew would work.
“Can I help you find anything?” the clerk asked.
I smiled sweetly. “Yes, I’m looking for an animal attractant spray. The strongest you have.”
After returning home, I waited until the neighborhood was asleep. Then, I went up to his precious fence and poured an entire bottle of the attractant liquid.
The pheromone scent was strong. It was designed to attract dogs for training purposes. But I had a feeling it might attract more than just dogs.
I did this for several nights in a row, ensuring the solution covered every inch of the fence.
Then, I waited.
It didn’t take long for results to show.
One night, as I was taking out the trash, I saw a stray dog lift its leg against the fence. I had to stifle a laugh.
“Good boy,” I whispered.
Over the next few days, more and more animals started visiting the fence. Foxes, raccoons, even a moose once! They all seemed to think Jeffrey’s fence was the perfect place to do their business.
I watched from my window as Jeffrey discovered the mess one morning. His face turned an impressive shade of purple as he realized what was happening.
But to my surprise, he didn’t take down the fence.
He started cleaning it.
Every morning, Jeffrey would come out with a bucket and scrub brush, muttering under his breath as he cleaned off the nightly deposits.
But no matter how much he cleaned, he couldn’t get rid of the pheromone scent. The animals kept coming back, night after night.
Soon, the smell became unbearable. Even my boys started to notice.
“Mom,” Chris said one day, holding his nose, “it stinks outside!”
Liam nodded in agreement. “Yeah, can we play inside today?”
“I know it smells bad, boys,” I said. “Just give it a few more days, okay?”
They nodded, but I could see they were disappointed. I hoped my plan would work soon.
The next day, I was coming back from a grocery run when I saw one of our other neighbors, Mrs. Thompson, knocking on Jeffrey’s door.
I slowed down, pretending to check my mail as I eavesdropped.
“Jeffrey,” Mrs. Thompson began, “what on earth is that smell coming from your yard? It’s awful!”
Jeffrey seemed so embarrassed.
“I… I’m working on it, Mrs. Thompson. There’s been a bit of an animal problem.”
“Well, work faster!” she snapped. “It’s affecting the whole neighborhood!”
As Mrs. Thompson stormed off, Jeffrey caught my eye. He had this apologetic look on his face that I had never seen before. I smiled at him and quickly walked into my house.
That evening, I watched from my other window as Jeffrey attacked the fence with every cleaning product known to man.
He scrubbed and sprayed for hours, but the smell lingered. Finally, he threw down his brush in defeat and trudged back to his house.
The next morning, I was awakened by a loud noise outside. I peeked through my curtains and had to blink a few times to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.
I could see Jeffrey overseeing a team of workers as they took down the fence.
I couldn’t believe my plan had actually worked!
I woke up the boys with the good news. “Liam! Chris! Come look outside!”
They raced to the window, their eyes widening as they saw the fence coming down.
“Mom, we can see the trees again!” Chris exclaimed.
Liam hugged me tight. “You’re the best, Mom!”
And with that, our view was restored, and Jeffrey had learned his lesson. However, the story doesn’t end there.
Later that day, Jeffrey approached me while I was gardening in the front yard.
“Catherine,” he started, clearing his throat, “I, uh… I want to apologize.”
“Oh?” I pretended to act surprised.
He nodded. “I shouldn’t have put up that fence without your permission. It was wrong of me.”
“Yes, it was,” I agreed, crossing my arms.
“I’ve learned my lesson,” he continued. “From now on, I’ll respect your property and your rights as a neighbor.”
“Apology accepted, Jeffrey,” I smiled. “Let’s start over, shall we?”
“I’d like that.”
As Jeffrey walked away, I couldn’t help but feel proud. I had stood up for myself and my boys, and in the end, everything worked out.
That incident taught me that life sometimes puts you in situations where you have to get creative to find a solution, just like I had to come up with a plan to teach Jeffrey a lesson he’ll never forget.
Do you think I did the right thing?
I Let a Homeless Woman Stay in My Garage, but One Day, I Walked in Without Knocking & Was Stunned by What She Was Doing
When a wealthy, emotionally distant man offers shelter to Lexi, a homeless woman, he’s drawn to her resilience. Their unlikely bond begins to grow — until the day he walks into his garage unannounced and discovers something disturbing. Who is Lexi really, and what is she hiding?
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I had everything money could buy: a sprawling estate, luxury cars, and more wealth than I could ever spend in a lifetime. Yet, inside, there was a hollow I couldn’t fill.
I’d never had a family since women always seemed to want me only for the money I inherited from my parents. At sixty-one, I couldn’t help but wish I’d done something differently.
A lonely man | Source: Midjourney
I tapped the steering wheel absently, trying to shake off the familiar weight on my chest. That’s when I saw a disheveled woman bent over a trash can.
I slowed the car, not sure why I even bothered. People like her were everywhere, weren’t they? But there was something about the way she moved, her thin arms digging through the garbage with a sort of grim determination that tugged at something inside me.
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She looked fragile, yet fierce, like she was holding onto survival by sheer force of will.
A homeless woman | Source: Pexels
Before I realized what I was doing, I had pulled over. The engine hummed as I rolled down the window, watching her from the safety of my car.
She looked up, startled. Her eyes were wide, and for a moment, I thought she might run. But she didn’t. Instead, she straightened up, brushing her hands on her faded jeans.
“Do you need some help?” I asked, my voice sounding strange even to my ears. It wasn’t like me to talk to strangers, let alone invite trouble into my world.
A man speaking through an open car window | Source: Pexels
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“You offering?” There was a sharpness to her voice, but also a kind of tiredness, like she’d heard every empty promise before.
“I don’t know.” The words tumbled out before I could think them through. I stepped out of the car. “I just saw you there and… well, it didn’t seem right.”
She crossed her arms over her chest; her gaze never leaving mine. “What’s not right is life.” She let out a bitter laugh. “And cheating, no-good husbands in particular. But you don’t strike me as someone who knows much about that.”
A homeless woman | Source: Pexels
I winced, even though I knew she was right.
“Maybe not.” I paused, unsure of how to continue. “Do you have a place to go tonight?”
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She hesitated, her eyes darting away for a second before locking back onto mine. “No.”
The word hung in the air between us. It was all I needed to hear.
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
“Look, I have a garage. Well, it’s more like a guest house. You could stay there until you get back on your feet.”
I expected her to laugh in my face, to tell me to go to hell. But instead, she just blinked at me, the edges of her tough exterior starting to crack.
“I don’t take charity,” she said, her voice quieter now, more vulnerable.
“It’s not charity,” I replied, though I wasn’t entirely sure what it was. “It’s just a place to stay. No strings attached.”
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A man smiling | Source: Midjourney
“Okay. Just for a night,” she replied. “I’m Lexi, by the way.”
The drive back to the estate was quiet. She sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window, her arms wrapped around herself like a shield.
When we arrived, I led her to the garage-turned-guest-house. It was nothing fancy, but enough for someone to live in.
“You can stay here,” I said, gesturing toward the small space. “There’s food in the fridge, too.”
A cozy home interior | Source: Pexels
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“Thanks,” she muttered.
Over the next few days, Lexi stayed in the garage but we saw each other for occasional meals. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but something about her pulled at me.
Maybe it was how she seemed to keep going despite everything life had thrown at her, or perhaps the loneliness I saw in her eyes, mirroring my own. Maybe it was just the simple fact that I didn’t feel quite so alone anymore.
One night, as we sat across from each other over dinner, she began to open up.
Dinner on the table | Source: Pexels
“I used to be an artist,” she said, her voice soft. “Well, I tried to be, anyway. I had a small gallery, a few shows… but it all fell apart.”
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“What happened?” I asked, genuinely curious.
She laughed, but it was a hollow sound. “Life happened. My husband left me for some younger woman he got pregnant and kicked me out. My whole life unraveled after that.”
A sad woman | Source: Midjourney
“I’m sorry,” I muttered.
She shrugged. “It’s in the past.”
But I could tell it wasn’t, not really. The pain was still there, just beneath the surface. I knew that feeling all too well.
As the days passed, I found myself looking forward to our conversations.
A man looking out a window | Source: Midjourney
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Lexi had a sharp wit and a biting sense of humor that cut through the gloom of my empty estate. Slowly, the hollow space inside me seemed to shrink.
It all changed one afternoon. I had been rushing around, trying to find the air pump for the tires on one of my cars. I barged into the garage without knocking, expecting to grab it quickly and leave. But what I saw stopped me cold.
There, spread across the floor, were dozens of paintings. Of me.
A shocked man | Source: Midjourney
Or rather, grotesque versions of me. One painting showed me with chains around my neck, another with blood pouring from my eyes. In the corner, there was one of me lying in a casket.
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I felt a wave of nausea wash over me. This was how she saw me? After everything I’d done for her?
I backed out of the room before she noticed me, my heart pounding.
A woman painting | Source: Pexels
That night, as we sat down for dinner, I couldn’t shake the images from my mind. Whenever I looked at Lexi, all I saw were those horrific portraits.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Lexi,” I said, my voice tight. “What the hell are those paintings?”
Her fork clattered to the plate. “What are you talking about?”
A fork on a plate | Source: Pexels
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“I saw them,” I said, my voice rising despite my efforts to stay calm. “The paintings of me. The chains, the blood, the coffin. What the hell is that?”
Her face went pale. “I didn’t mean for you to see those,” she stammered.
“Well, I did,” I said coldly. “Is that how you see me? As some monster?”
“No, it’s not that.” She wiped at her eyes, her voice shaky. “I was just… angry. I’ve lost everything, and you have so much. It wasn’t fair, and I couldn’t help it. I needed to let it out.”
An emotional woman | Source: Midjourney
“So you painted me like a villain?” I asked, my voice sharp.
She nodded, shame etched into her features. “I’m sorry.”
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I sat back, letting the silence stretch between us. I wanted to forgive her. I wanted to understand. But I couldn’t.
“I think it’s time for you to go,” I said, my voice flat.
A man running his hands through his hair | Source: Midjourney
Lexi’s eyes widened. “Wait, please—”
“No,” I interrupted. “It’s over. You need to leave.”
The next morning, I helped her pack her belongings and drove her to a nearby shelter. She didn’t say much, and neither did I. Before she stepped out of the car, I handed her a few hundred dollars.
She hesitated but then took the money with trembling hands.
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Dollar bills | Source: Pexels
Weeks passed, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of loss. Not just because of the disturbing paintings, but because of what we’d had before. There had been warmth and connection — something I hadn’t felt in years.
Then, one day, a package arrived at my door. Inside was a painting, but this one was different. It wasn’t grotesque or twisted. It was a serene portrait of me, captured with a peace I hadn’t known I possessed.
Tucked inside the package was a note with Lexi’s name and phone number scrawled at the bottom.
A man holding a note | Source: Midjourney
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My finger hovered over the call button, my heart beating faster than it had in years. Getting worked up over a phone call felt ridiculous, but there was so much more riding on it than I wanted to admit.
I swallowed hard and hit “Call” before I could second-guess myself again. It rang twice before she picked up.
“Hello?” Her voice was hesitant like she somehow sensed it could only be me.
A man speaking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
I cleared my throat. “Lexi. It’s me. I got your painting… it’s beautiful.”
“Thank you. I didn’t know if you’d like it. I figured I owed you something better than… well, those other paintings.”
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“You didn’t owe me anything, Lexi. I wasn’t exactly fair to you, either.”
“You had every right to be upset.” Her voice was steadier now. “What I painted — those were things I needed to get out of me, but they weren’t about you, really. You were just… there. I’m sorry.”
A man taking a phone call | Source: Midjourney
“You don’t need to apologize, Lexi. I forgave you the moment I saw that painting.”
Her breath hitched. “You did?”
“I did,” I said, and I meant it. It wasn’t just the painting that had changed my mind, it was the gnawing feeling that I had let something meaningful slip through my fingers because I was too afraid to face my pain. “And… well, I’ve been thinking… maybe we could start over.”
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A smiling man speaking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, maybe we could talk. Maybe over dinner? If you’d like.”
“I’d like that,” she said. “I’d really like that.”
We made arrangements to meet in a few days. Lexi told me she’d used the money I gave her to buy new clothes and get a job. She was planning to move into an apartment when she received her first paycheck.
I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of having dinner with Lexi again.
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
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