The Previous Owner of My House Left a Cautionary Note About Our Neighbors – I Didn’t Believe It Until One Day

When we moved into our new house, we thought we’d found the perfect neighbors in the Johnsons. But after returning from vacation to find our property trashed, I discovered a hidden note that would change everything and force us to question who we could really trust.

We moved into our new house a year ago, and everything seemed perfect. The neighborhood was quiet, the house was beautiful, and we were excited to settle in. Our neighbors, the Johnsons, seemed cool too. They welcomed us with a pie and friendly smiles.

“Welcome to the neighborhood!” Jane beamed, holding out a steaming apple pie. Her husband, Tom, stood behind her, grinning and waving.

“Thanks so much,” I said, taking the pie. “I’m Emma, and this is my husband Mike.”

Mike stepped forward, shaking their hands. “Great to meet you both. We’re really looking forward to living here.”

We chatted for a while, and they seemed nice enough. Their house was somewhat run-down, but that didn’t bother us. Over the next few months, we got to know them better. We had barbecues, swam in our pool, and generally got along well.

But three months later, I found a note from the previous owner tucked inside a kitchen drawer. It read: “Beware of the Johnsons. They’ll make your life hell. Don’t put them too close.”

I showed it to Mike that evening. “What do you think about this?” I asked, handing him the note.

He read it and frowned. “Seems a bit dramatic, don’t you think? They’ve been nothing but nice to us.”

I nodded, but something nagged at me. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s probably nothing.”

“Maybe the previous owner had a personal beef with them,” Mike suggested. “People can be petty sometimes.”

We decided to ignore it. After all, we’d been getting along great with Jane and Tom. Every weekend, we invited them over for pool parties and barbecues. We exchanged recipes, borrowed books, and even asked for their advice about garden design.

“Your tomatoes look amazing, Tom,” I complimented Tom one day when he came over to look at my fledgling vegetable patch. “Any tips?” I asked.

Tom puffed up with pride. “Well, it’s all in the soil preparation…”

Jane and I swapped book recommendations regularly. “Oh, Emma, you have to read this one,” she’d say, pressing a novel into my hands. “It’s absolutely gripping.”

We gave them permission to use our garden and pool any time they wanted — we were set for our annual family vacation, so it felt good leaving the place for our new neighbors to enjoy.

Fast forward to last week. Mike and I returned from our vacation, and what we found left us livid. Our beautiful garden was trampled, the pool was filthy with debris, and there was garbage strewn all over the driveway. It was a complete nightmare.

“What the heck happened here?” Mike exclaimed, his face red with anger.

I clenched my fists. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”

We marched over to the Johnsons’ house. I knocked on the door, my jaw set with determination. Jane answered with a smile that seemed a bit too wide.

“Hey, neighbors! How was your trip?” she chirped.

“What happened to our property?” Mike demanded to know, not standing for any small talk.

Tom stepped out to meet us on the porch, his face a mask of innocence. “That wasn’t us. You can’t prove anything,” he snapped.

I raised an eyebrow. “Why did you think we’d accuse you? Do you know who did this?”

Jane’s eyes darted nervously. “Oh, maybe it was the neighbors across the road? Ethan and his girlfriend — they’re a weird couple, bunch of hippies, if you ask me.”

“Right,” I said, not believing a word. “We’ll go check with them.”

We decided to check it out. Ethan answered the door, looking confused at our aggressive tone. His girlfriend, Olivia, stood next to him, equally bewildered.

“Look, we’re sorry to bother you,” I started, “but our property was vandalized while we were away. The Johnsons suggested it might have been you.”

Ethan’s eyes widened. “What? No way! We’ve barely left the house since moving in. We’ve been renovating.”

Olivia stepped forward. “Actually, we might be able to help. We installed security cameras last week. They cover part of your property too.”

“Really?” Mike perked up. “Would you mind if we took a look?”

Ethan nodded. “Of course, come on in.”

We watched the footage in disbelief. The Johnsons had thrown multiple parties at our house while we were away. Their guests had no respect for our property, and Jane and Tom did nothing to stop them.

“I can’t believe this,” I muttered, watching Jane laugh as her kid spray-painted our fence.

Mike’s fists were clenched. “Those lying, two-faced —”

“I’m so sorry,” Ethan said. “We had no idea this was happening.”

Olivia nodded. “Yeah, if we’d known, we would have said something.”

We thanked them for their help and left, fury building with each step back to the Johnsons’ house. This time, we didn’t bother knocking.

“Hey, Tom,” I called out. “Let’s talk again about the trash that mysteriously appeared on our property.”

Tom came to the door, opened it, and looked at me for a few moments, then he shrugged and offered lamely, “You’re blowing this out of proportion. It’s just some trash and a bit of paint. Kids will be kids, right?”

“Just some trash?” Mike exploded. “Our pool is filthy, our garden is destroyed, and there’s garbage all over our property!”

“And let’s not forget the multiple parties you threw at our house,” I added. “We saw the security footage.”

Jane’s face paled. “What footage?”

“Ethan and Olivia’s security cameras caught everything,” I explained, enjoying the look of panic on their faces.

Their smug attitudes fueled my anger. I knew it was time to teach them a lesson they wouldn’t forget.

That night, after the Johnsons had gone to bed, Mike and I put our plan into action. We gathered up all the garbage they’d left at our house, plus a few extra “presents” from our trash.

At midnight, we crept over to their yard. “Ready?” I whispered to Mike.

He nodded, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Let’s do this.”

We spread the trash all over their lawn and garden, making sure it was a complete mess. As a final touch, we let our kids paint whatever they wanted on the Johnsons’ front fence.

“Remember, kids,” I whispered, “be as creative as you want.”

Our daughter grinned, wielding her paintbrush like a weapon. “This is gonna be fun!”

The next morning, we woke up early to watch the show. Jane’s scream of disgust was music to my ears.

“Tom! Tom! Look at this!” she shrieked.

Tom stumbled out, and his jaw dropped at the sight. “What is this?”

We casually strolled over, coffee mugs in hand. “Everything okay?” I asked innocently.

Jane turned to us, her face red with anger. “Did you do this?”

I shrugged, mimicking Tom’s gesture from yesterday. “You’re blowing this out of proportion. It’s just some trash and a bit of paint.”

Mike chimed in, “Kids will be kids, right?”

The look on their faces was priceless. They knew they’d been caught, and there was nothing they could do about it.

“This is unacceptable!” Tom blustered. “We’ll report you to the homeowners’ association!”

I smiled sweetly. “Go ahead. I’m sure they’d love to see the footage of you vandalizing our property too.”

Jane’s face crumpled. “Why would you do this?”

“Why would we do this?” Mike repeated incredulously. “Are you serious? You trashed our house, threw parties without our permission, and let your guests destroy our property!”

“And then you lied about it,” I added. “You even tried to blame Ethan and Olivia.”

Tom had the decency to look ashamed. “We… we didn’t think you’d find out.”

“Well, we did,” I said firmly. “And now you know how it feels.”

Word spread quickly through the neighborhood. When Jane tried to complain to other neighbors, we simply showed them the footage of what the Johnsons had done to our property.

“I can’t believe they would do that,” our neighbor Mrs. Peterson said, shaking her head after watching the video. “And they seemed like such nice people.”

Another neighbor, Mr. Garcia, was equally disgusted. “That’s just not right. You can’t treat people’s property like that.”

Within days, the neighborhood had turned against them. They had no choice but to clean up their mess and change their ways.

As I watched them picking up trash from their lawn, I couldn’t help but think about that warning note. Sometimes, you need to stand up for yourself and teach people a lesson in respect. The Johnsons learned the hard way that treating others badly can come back to bite you.

“You know,” Mike said, putting his arm around me, “I’m glad we found that note, even if it was a little late.”

I nodded, leaning into him. “Me too. And next time, we’ll listen to warnings like that a lot sooner.”

We stood there, watching the Johnsons work, feeling satisfied that justice had been served. It wasn’t the welcome to the neighborhood we’d expected, but it sure made for one hell of a story.

As we turned to go back inside, I saw Ethan and Olivia walking down the street. They waved, and we waved back.

“You know,” I said to Mike, “I think we might have found some real friends in this neighborhood after all.”

What would you have done?

My Husband’s Shocking Betrayal: He Brought Home His Pregnant Lover and My Revenge Will Leave You Speechless

Eight years of marriage fell apart in an instant when my husband Mike brought home his pregnant girlfriend and kicked me out of our house. I packed my bags, but what I really unpacked was a clever plan for revenge!

Eight years. About 2,922 days. Roughly 70,128 hours. Every moment, my heart kept saying one name—MIKE, my husband. I thought he loved me just as much. Oh, how wrong I was! I’m Michelle, a devoted wife who loved her husband deeply, until that shocking night when my world turned upside down. 

It was a Tuesday evening when everything changed. I came home tired from a long day at work and found a very pregnant woman sitting on our couch, munching on chips.

At first, I thought I must have walked into the wrong house.

But no, there was the awful floral wallpaper that Mike loved, and there was Mike, looking uncomfortable like he had just swallowed something prickly.

Source: Midjourney

“Hey, Michelle,” he said, sounding as casual as if he were just asking for salt. “We need to talk.”

I stood there, frozen, trying to process what I was seeing. The pregnant woman smiled awkwardly, her hand resting on her belly, looking like she was in a drama show.

“This is Jessica,” Mike said, pointing to the woman on our couch. “She’s pregnant. With my child. It… it just happened. And we’ve decided to be together.”

I waited for the joke. Surely, this was some prank for a reality TV show. Maybe I’d win a car if I didn’t freak out?

But Mike looked serious, and Jessica kept smiling that annoying smile.

Mike looked offended. “Enough, Michelle! This is serious. I think it’s best if you move out. You can go stay with your mom. Jess and I will take over the house.”

I blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. Nope, still not a dream.

I half-expected Ashton Kutcher to jump out and tell me I’d been Punk’d. But no Ashton. Just my cheating husband and his very pregnant partner.

“Alright,” I said calmly. “I’ll pack my things and leave.”

Mike looked relieved, probably thinking he’d gotten off easy. Jessica’s smile got even bigger, like she had just won the lottery. Little did they know, their luck was about to change, and not for the better.

Source: Midjourney

I went upstairs, packed a suitcase with my essentials, and left without saying a word.

As I drove to my mom’s house, the shock faded, and anger took over. But this wasn’t just any anger. This was the kind that makes you want to do something bold and incredibly satisfying.

The next day, I put my plan into action.

First stop: the bank. I walked in there like a woman on a mission, which I was. I froze our joint account faster than you can say “cheating jerk.”

The look on the bank manager’s face when I explained was priceless. I think he was mentally taking notes for his next book.

Next, I went to a locksmith.

I remembered overhearing Mike tell Jessica they’d be gone for three days, giving me plenty of time to carry out my plan. It felt like the universe was on my side, and who was I to argue with fate?

My next stop: my house. The same cozy home where Mike and I had once made plans for the future, which was now in ruins.

The confused locksmith probably thought I was crazy, laughing as I had him change all the locks on the house. I may have gone a little overboard and asked for the most complicated, high-tech locks. If I was going to do this, I wanted to do it right.

Then came the movers.

I gave them the spare keys and arranged for them to pack up everything I owned, which was basically everything in the house. I even took the toilet paper. Let’s see how Mike and Jessica enjoy using leaves!

But the best part? Oh, that was still to come. I had a brilliant idea that would make this revenge not just sweet, but unforgettable.

Source: Midjourney

I sent out party invitations. A lot of them. To Mike’s family, our friends, his coworkers, and even that nosy neighbor who always complained about our late dog.

The invitation said: “Come celebrate Mike’s new life! Surprise party at our house, tomorrow at 7 p.m.!”

Then, I arranged for a billboard. Yes, a billboard. A huge one. It was delivered and set up on our front lawn, impossible to ignore.

In giant, bold letters, it read: “Congratulations on Dumping Me for Your Pregnant Mistress, Mike! Hope the Baby Doesn’t Inherit Your Infidelity!”

I stepped back to admire my work, feeling like a mischievous fairy godmother who just granted the world’s most ironic wish. With a satisfied smirk and a dramatic hair flip, I walked away, excited for the chaos to come.

The next evening, right on cue, my phone rang. It was Mike, and he sounded like he was losing it.

“Michelle!” he yelled, his voice reaching levels I didn’t know he could hit. “What the hell is going on? Why are there people at our house? And what’s with this crazy billboard?”

“Oh, that?” I said, trying to sound innocent. “Just a little housewarming party for you and Jessica. Don’t you like the decorations?”

“Decorations? It’s a freaking circus out here! And why can’t I get into the house?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, sweetie, you told me to move out, remember? You never mentioned anything about you staying there. The house is under my name, so I changed the locks. Oops!”

There was a long pause on the other end. I could almost hear him trying to understand what was happening.

“Where are we supposed to go?” he finally asked, sounding lost.

“Gee, I don’t know, Mike. Maybe Jessica’s mom would love to have you? I hear pregnancy hormones and in-laws mix really well.”

Source: Midjourney

I hung up, feeling lighter than I had in years. But wait, there was more!

In the following days, I had the utilities turned off, canceled the cable, and made sure all our shared assets were in my name. I put the house up for sale, making sure to mention in the listing that it came with a “bonus front lawn art installation.”

I had Mike served with divorce papers at his work. I even asked the mailman to dress up as a pregnant woman. Just for fun!

But the universe wasn’t finished with Mike yet. Oh no, it had saved the best part for last.

Source: Midjourney

A week later, I got a call from Jessica. Yes, that Jessica. She was crying so much that I could barely understand her.

“Michelle,” she sobbed, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know… I mean, Mike told me you two were separated. And now… now he’s broke and homeless, and I’m pregnant, and I don’t know what to do!”

I almost felt bad for her. Almost.

“Well, Jessica,” I said, trying not to sound too happy, “I hear the circus is always looking for new acts. Maybe you two could start a juggling duo? You juggle the baby, and he juggles his lies?”

She didn’t appreciate my humor. Tsk! Tsk!

As it turned out, when Jessica learned that Mike was now homeless, broke, and the laughingstock of the town, she decided that being with a guy who had no money, no house, and no future wasn’t a great idea after all.

She dumped him faster than you can say “Karma’s a b****!”

Source: Midjourney

Last I heard, Mike was living in a tiny apartment, trying to scrape together enough money to pay bills and feed himself. His family had cut him off, disgusted by what he did.

They even sent me a fruit basket and an apology card. I ate the fruits while relaxing in my new jacuzzi.

As for me? Well, the house sold for a nice profit. I moved to a beautiful new place, started my own business, and adopted a cat. I named him Karma.

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