A Note from the Delivery Guy Made Me Install Security Cameras around My House – I’ll Forever Be Grateful to Him

The delivery guy’s scribbled note sent me rushing to my backyard trash cans, where I discovered something chilling. His cryptic warning may have saved my family from a terrifying fate, but the danger was far from over.

I often order food delivery when I’m too tired to cook for my kids. Over time, we grew close to Ravi, the delivery guy in our area. He’d always chat with Kai and Isla, high-fiving them before leaving. But last Tuesday night was different.

A food delivery man saddling up on his motorcycle | Source: Pexels

A food delivery man saddling up on his motorcycle | Source: Pexels

When Ravi arrived, he seemed very nervous. Fidgety. He shoved the food into my hands and bolted back to his car without a word.

“What’s up with Ravi?” Kai asked, peering out the window.

I shrugged, watching Ravi’s tail lights disappear down the street. “No idea, buddy. Maybe he’s in a hurry.”

As I brought the food into the kitchen, still puzzled by Ravi’s behavior, I noticed something on the back of the bag. Scrawled in shaky handwriting was a message that made me forget about dinner entirely.

Helpings of fast food laid out on a table | Source: Pexels

Helpings of fast food laid out on a table | Source: Pexels

“CHECK YOUR TRASH CAN”

I set the food down and turned to my kids. “Hey, why don’t you two go wash up? I’ll get everything ready.”

Once they were out of sight, I bolted to the backyard. The message kept repeating in my head as I approached our trash cans. My hands shook as I lifted the lid of the first one.

A brightly-colored trash can in a backyard | Source: Pexels

A brightly-colored trash can in a backyard | Source: Pexels

Nothing unusual. Just our regular garbage. I moved to the second can, dread building with each step. I threw open the lid and froze.

Inside, wrapped in an old, dirty blanket, was a collection of gloves and what looked like a few small tools. At the bottom sat a bottle without a label, filled with some kind of liquid.

“Mom? Are you okay?” Isla’s voice startled me.

I slammed the lid shut and spun around, forcing a smile. “Yeah, sweetie. Just… checking something. Go on inside, I’ll be right there.”

A woman closing a trash can in a backyard at night | Source: Midjourney

A woman closing a trash can in a backyard at night | Source: Midjourney

As soon as Isla was gone, I pulled out my phone and dialed the sheriff’s office.

“Sheriff’s Department, this is Leona speaking.”

“Leona, it’s Nora. I need you to come over right away. I found something concerning in my trash.”

“Slow down, Nora. What exactly did you find?”

I described the contents of the trash can, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t touch anything,” Leona said, her tone serious. “I’m on my way. Stay inside with your kids until I get there.”

A police officer on a call in a precinct | Source: Midjourney

A police officer on a call in a precinct | Source: Midjourney

I hung up and headed back inside. Our neighborhood had recently experienced a string of break-ins, all with eerily similar methods. Chemicals used to weaken locks, meticulous clean-up of any evidence.

It hit me: my house was being set up for the next break-in.

“Mom, what’s going on?” Kai asked as I entered the kitchen. “You look scared.”

I forced another smile. “Everything’s fine, honey. Let’s eat dinner, okay?”

A woman setting dinner for children at a table | Source: Pexels

A woman setting dinner for children at a table | Source: Pexels

We’d barely started eating when there was a knock at the door. I jumped up, but was relieved when I saw Leona through the peephole.

“Kids, stay here and finish your dinner,” I said, stepping outside to talk to Leona.

She listened intently as I recounted finding the items and Ravi’s strange behavior.

“You did the right thing calling me,” Leona said, her eyes scanning the street. “I’ll take a look at what’s in your trash and get it to the lab. In the meantime, I strongly recommend you beef up your security. Also, we’ll patrol the house all night, so in case they re-tool and still try to break in, we’ll nab them red-handed.”

A police officer smiling | Source: Pexels

A police officer smiling | Source: Pexels

I nodded, already planning my next move. “I’ll call a security company first thing in the morning.”

Leona placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Try to get some rest, Nora. We’ll figure this out.”

But sleep was the last thing on my mind that night. I spent hours researching security systems, jumping at every little sound outside. By morning, I was a jittery mess of caffeine and anxiety.

A woman working on a laptop computer at night | Source: Pexels

A woman working on a laptop computer at night | Source: Pexels

As soon as it hit 8 a.m., I called the first security company on my list. “Hi, I need cameras installed around my house. Today, if possible.”

“Ma’am, our earliest available slot is next week —”

“You don’t understand,” I cut in, my voice cracking. “I think someone’s planning to break into my home. I need those cameras now.”

There must’ve been something in my tone because the receptionist’s voice softened. “Let me see what I can do. Can you hold for a moment?”

A woman on a call in a work environment | Source: Pexels

A woman on a call in a work environment | Source: Pexels

After what felt like an eternity, she came back on the line. “We’ve had a cancellation. Our team can be there in two hours. Will that work?”

I nearly cried with relief. “Yes, thank you. Thank you so much.”

The next few hours were a blur. I called in sick to work, kept the kids home from school, and paced the house until the security team arrived.

A security camera installed on a wall | Source: Pexels

A security camera installed on a wall | Source: Pexels

As they worked, installing cameras and explaining the system to me, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Every car that drove by, every person walking their dog, they all seemed suspicious now.

Just as the security team was finishing up, Leona’s patrol car pulled into my driveway. She got out, her face grim.

“Nora, can we talk inside?”

A parked police patrol vehicle | Source: Pexels

A parked police patrol vehicle | Source: Pexels

My stomach lurched as I led her into the house. “Kids, why don’t you go play in your rooms for a bit?”

Once they were out of earshot, Leona spoke. “The lab results came back on those items we found. The liquid in the bottle? It’s a powerful corrosive, often used to weaken locks.”

I sank onto the couch, my legs suddenly weak. “So it’s true. They were planning to break in.”

Leona nodded. “It looks that way. But Nora, you’ve done everything right. You’ve got cameras now, you’re aware of the threat. We’re increasing patrols in the area too.”

A policewoman discussing something in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A policewoman discussing something in a living room | Source: Midjourney

“What about Ravi?” I asked. “Should I talk to him?”

“If you see him, yes. But be careful. We don’t know if he’s involved or just an observant bystander.”

As if on cue, I spotted Ravi pulling up to my neighbor’s house. “He’s here now,” I said, moving to the window.

Leona joined me. “Go talk to him. I’ll watch from here.”

I stepped outside, my pulse racing. Ravi was just getting back onto his bike when he saw me.

A delivery man astride a motorcycle | Source: Pexels

A delivery man astride a motorcycle | Source: Pexels

“Hey,” I called out, trying to keep my voice steady. “Got a minute?”

Ravi hesitated, then nodded. As he approached, I could see the tension in his shoulders.

“Look,” he said before I could speak, “I’m sorry about yesterday. I should’ve said something, but I was scared.”

“Scared of what?” I asked, though I had a pretty good idea.

A woman having a conversation with someone in a front yard | Source: Midjourney

A woman having a conversation with someone in a front yard | Source: Midjourney

Ravi glanced around nervously. “After I parked, I saw these guys messing with your trash. They looked not good, you know? I wanted to warn you, but I was afraid they might still be around.”

I was so relieved. “That’s why you left the note?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I’m sorry if I freaked you out. I just didn’t know what else to do.”

“Ravi,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “You might have saved my family. Thank you.”

A profile view of a woman talking to someone unseen | Source: Midjourney

A profile view of a woman talking to someone unseen | Source: Midjourney

His shoulders relaxed a bit. “Really? You’re not mad?”

I shook my head. “Not at all. In fact, I owe you big time.”

As Ravi drove away, I felt grateful but also a little afraid. The threat wasn’t over, but at least now I knew we weren’t facing it alone.

Back inside, Leona was on her phone, talking in hushed tones. She hung up as I approached.

“We’ve got some leads based the description Ravi gave us ,” she said. “We’ll catch these guys, Nora. Just stay vigilant.”

A police officer talking on a mobile phone in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A police officer talking on a mobile phone in a living room | Source: Midjourney

That night, after tucking Kai and Isla into bed, I sat in front of the new security monitors. The cameras showed empty streets and quiet yards, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that somewhere out there, someone was watching, waiting for their chance.

I thought about Ravi’s quick thinking, Leona’s dedication, and my own newfound strength. Whatever came next, we’d face it together. For now, all I could do was watch and wait, grateful for the unexpected allies who’d helped keep my family safe.

A woman looking aside thoughtfully | Source: Pexels

A woman looking aside thoughtfully | Source: Pexels

What would you have done? If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you about neighbors who installed a camera aimed at a woman’s garden, but she taught them a savage lesson without going to court.

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.

My husband was determined to poison the raccoons that kept invading our backyard, but what they pulled from our trash left me completely shocked

“I’m telling you, we need better locks for the cans,” I suggested one morning as Kyle angrily watched me scoop up the scattered garbage. “Maybe some chicken wire around the garden too. My sister Jane says that worked for them.”

“I don’t care what your sister says. What we need is to get rid of them. Permanently.”

I remembered when we first met, how his spontaneity had seemed charming. Now, at forty, that impulsiveness had morphed into an iron-fisted need to control everything, including me.

“Kyle, please. Can’t we try the peaceful way first?”

He jabbed a finger at me. “You always do this, Josie. Always trying to make everything complicated when there’s a simple solution right in front of us.”

“Simple doesn’t always mean right.”

He slammed the broom against the side of the house. “What was that?”

I flinched. “Nothing. I’ll look into better trash cans today.”

That weekend, I found Kyle in the garage, assembling something metallic.

“What’s that?” I asked, though I already knew. Animal traps.

He didn’t look up. “Insurance. These smart traps will catch anything that comes near our trash.”

“Kyle, please. They could hurt them.”

He slammed down his screwdriver. “That’s the point! I’m so sick of you defending these disease-carrying vermin. You act like they’re some kind of pets.”

“They’re not pets, but they don’t deserve to suffer. Maybe if we just—”

“Maybe if we just what, Josie? Let them take over? Build them a guest house while we’re at it? I’ve had it with your bleeding heart routine.”

I felt tears welling up but forced them back. “Why does everything have to be solved with violence? They’re just hungry animals, Kyle.”

He stood up, his face red. “You want to know what I think? I think you care more about these pests than our home. Than me.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it? Every time I try to solve a problem, you fight me. The raccoons, the neighbor’s dog that keeps barking all night, even that group of teens that hangs out by our fence.”

“Those are all living beings, Kyle. Not problems to be ‘solved.’”

“This is my house!” he yelled, making me jump. “I work every day to pay for it, to keep it nice, and I’m not going to let some animals destroy it while my stupid wife takes their side!”

When the raccoons started showing up again this spring, Kyle completely lost it.

That evening, I was folding laundry when he stormed in, waving a piece of paper and grinning like he’d won the lottery.

“You’ll never guess what I found at the hardware store. Industrial-grade pest control. Guaranteed to solve our little problem.”

I took the paper. It was a receipt for animal traps and some kind of poison. My hands started trembling.

“Kyle, you can’t be serious. That stuff could kill them!”

He snatched the receipt back. “That’s the point, Josie. God, sometimes I think you’re being dense on purpose.”

“But what if neighborhood cats get into it? Or someone’s dog? We could get in trouble.”

Kyle’s face darkened. “I’ve made up my mind. The raccoons are gone by the end of the week, one way or another.”

I spent that night tossing and turning, my mind racing. When did the man I married become someone who could so casually talk about killing innocent creatures?

I thought about calling Jane, but I already knew what she’d say. She’d never liked Kyle and always said there was something off about him. Maybe I should have listened.

The breaking point came on a quiet Tuesday night two days later. I was reading in bed when I heard rustling outside. Peering through the window, I saw one of the trash cans had been knocked over again.

I slipped on my robe and grabbed a flashlight. As I approached the mess, something caught my eye. It was a black garbage bag, partially open, with something moving inside.

My hands trembled as I reached for it. “Oh no. No, no, no…”

Inside were three tiny raccoon babies, barely old enough to open their eyes. They were squirming weakly.

“Kyle!” I screamed, cradling the bag close. “Kyle, get out here right now!”

He appeared on the porch, looking annoyed. “What are you yelling about? It’s the middle of the night, you crazy woman!”

“Did you do this?” I held up the bag. “Did you throw away baby animals like they were garbage?”

He shrugged. “They’re pests. I’m handling it.”

“Handling it? They’ll die!”

“That’s the point, Josie. Jesus, why are you so naive? They’re just raccoons!”

“Just raccoons? They’re babies, Kyle! Living, breathing creatures that feel pain and fear. How would you feel if someone threw you away to die?”

He laughed, a cold sound that made me shiver. “Now you’re comparing me to a raccoon? How dare you, Josie?”

“I’m comparing you to someone with empathy, and you’re coming up short.”

Kyle stepped closer, his voice a chilling growl that made my blood run cold. “You know what your problem is? You’re soft. Always have been. The world isn’t some fairy tale where we all just get along. Sometimes you have to be tough.”

“Tough? There’s nothing tough about hurting something weaker than you. That’s just cruel.”

I looked at him and wondered how I’d never seen the cruelty that had always been there.

The next morning, I called every wildlife rescue in the area until I found one that could help. A kind woman named Marla showed me how to feed the raccoon kits with a tiny bottle.

“You’re doing great,” she assured me, watching as I cradled the smallest one. “They’re lucky you found them when you did.”

As I watched the kit suckle eagerly, tears rolled down my cheeks. “I just don’t understand how someone could be so cruel.”

Marla squeezed my shoulder. “Sometimes the animals we save end up saving us too.”

That evening, I found Kyle’s journal and a detailed plan for dealing with the “raccoon infestation.” It included poison locations, trap placements, and even a schedule. The methodical cruelty of it made me sick.

When Jane arrived, she saw the journal in my hands.

“Still think I’m overreacting?” I asked, showing her the pages.

She shook her head. “Josie, this isn’t about raccoons anymore. Maybe it never was.”

“I know,” I whispered. “I think I’ve always known.”

The divorce papers were served a week later. Kyle didn’t seem surprised, just angry. As always.

“You’re really throwing me out over some pests?” he spat as he packed his things into boxes.

I stood my ground in the doorway of what was now my house alone. “No, Kyle. I’m ending this because of who you’ve become. Who you’ve always been, maybe, and I just didn’t want to see it.”

Days turned into weeks. The raccoon kits grew stronger.

The smallest one was shy and always hid behind his siblings. The middle one was curious about everything. And the biggest was protective, always watching out for the others.

Marla helped me release them back into the wild when they were ready. As we watched them toddle toward the treeline, I saw movement in the bushes. There, watching us, was their mother.

“Look,” Marla whispered. “She came back for them.”

The mother raccoon chittered softly, and her babies ran to her. Before disappearing into the forest, she turned and looked right at me. In that instance, I felt a connection to something larger than myself. Compassion.

“You know,” Marla said, “there’s an opening at the rescue center if you’re interested. We could use someone with your kindness.”

I smiled, feeling lighter than I had in years. “I’d like that.”

“You know, Josie, you can tell a lot about a person by how they treat animals. They’re like a mirror that reflects our true selves.”

Looking back, I realized the raccoons hadn’t just been victims of Kyle’s cruelty. They’d been my wake-up call. Sometimes it takes seeing someone else’s vulnerability to recognize your own.

As the raccoons disappeared into the trees, I took a deep breath and felt ready for a fresh start. I knew I deserved better, and that someday, I’d find the right person who saw the world with the same compassion I did.

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