All hell broke loose when Thomas and Sienna uploaded a photo on social media to commemorate their tenth wedding anniversary. A creepy face appeared in the image, triggering a chain of events that brought the happy couple face-to-face with a horrifying truth.
Thomas quickly set the camera timer and joined Sienna in front of the fireplace, saying, “Ten years.”
Sienna responded, “Ten years of us.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
As the camera’s timer counted down, Sienna thought she heard a soft sound in the hallway behind her. Her attention flickered, but she quickly dismissed it and focused instead on their anniversary photo, another one of the pictures that captured their lives.
Their home had more than enough littered around and adorning the walls.
Thomas sighed, nostalgic all of a sudden. “I remember when we first moved in here… We spent two nights sleeping on the floor,” he said, wrinkles forming in the corners of his eyes.
Sienna added, “And now, every nook and cranny holds a piece of our story. And we also get to share these pieces with others…on social media.” She laughed, clicking on her phone and putting it away to enjoy the rest of the night.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
In the morning, the sun woke her up, but as she blinked into the light, Sienna realized that something else was also disturbing their peace.
“Check that, hon,” Thomas said, his voice thick with sleep. “It’s been pinging for a while now.”
Sienna reached for her nightstand, her eyes half-closed, and brought the phone to her face. Too many social media notifications had appeared. She checked them, rising a bit on the bed to get comfortable.
“People are saying there’s something weird in our photo,” she said, frowning. “I have several missed calls, too.”
Thomas moved his body over to see her phone. “Weird? Like what?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Sienna’s brow creased as she read some comments. “A strange face is in the background, they say. But that’s impossible, right?”
He sighed, grabbing the phone and studying the photo. “Probably just shadows or something. Don’t let it bother you.” He shook his head and gave her the phone back, then rose from the bed for the day. But Sienna continued reading.
There was one comment with a screenshot highlighting a creepy childlike face near her shoulder in their photo. “Thomas… What the hell is that?” she whispered in dread, her finger touching the screen.
Thomas, who had been brushing his teeth by then, came back and peered over. “It’s gotta be a prank.”
But Sienna was terrified, remembering the noise she had heard as the camera took the photo. So, she searched on her phone until she found the original picture in the gallery app.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“This isn’t a glitch. It’s too defined, too real. Look at its expression,” she argued, her eyes wide and wild.
Thomas still wasn’t convinced, but Sienna wouldn’t let it go. She went through the pictures. “Look. In every photo, there’s this strange, hazy presence,” she pointed out. “I think… it could be a ghost. Maybe our house is haunted.”
“We’ve lived here for a decade. We would’ve noticed,” he scoffed, but it was a broken sound. Sienna could tell that he was confused, if not entirely worried.
As they contemplated the eerie discovery, Sienna went to the spot where the camera had been and began taking photos, searching for a logical explanation. But the experiment was cut short as she screamed in fright when hands closed over her shoulders.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“Relax, love. It’s me,” her husband said, chuckling a bit. “Forget about that photo. We’ve got lunch reservations, remember?”
Sienna agreed and got ready but apprehensively looked around the house before leaving. She continued to stare intently around as Thomas opened the car door for her and later walked to the driver’s seat.
A movement made her focus on the window. The same eerie face had appeared, making her yelp. “Stop the car!” she insisted, pointing at the house. Thomas squinted but couldn’t see anything. It was gone, but Sienna was sure of what she had seen.
***
That night, Sienna was awakened by a mournful cry and footsteps in their house. “Darling, wake up. Do you hear that?” she whispered, hearing sobs from the hallway.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Thomas woke and heard the noise, too. He immediately grabbed the phone.
“We can’t call 911 for a ghost!” Sienna argued, but he insisted on protecting them from a real-life threat. After finishing the call, he grabbed his gun and went to check things out.
Sienna refused to stay behind, saying, “I’m going with you!”
They cautiously approached the source of the mysterious sounds in their home. Thomas checked the guest bedroom, but footsteps echoed downstairs. They took each step carefully, hearing more noise–another language—coming from the kitchen.
Sienna jumped a little and yelped again after finally seeing the truth about their home intruder. This was no ghost. Instead, they discovered the unsettling presence of a malnourished boy — the same one from their photo. He was crying, his pale, bony face completely covered in tears and snot.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Freeze!” Thomas shouted, but the boy sobbed and shook his head. Her husband focused on the intruder and lowered his arm, realizing there was no danger. “Hey there, it’s okay. We won’t hurt you.”
“Help?” The child’s eyes widened with hope.
Despite her racing heart, Sienna’s fear turned to sympathy at his pleas. “You’re hungry, right?” she asked, grinning tenderly.
“Hungry, yes.” The boy nodded.
“What’s your name?”
“Nikolai.”
As Sienna prepared a sandwich for Nikolai, the couple realized the boy had not meant to break in. He needed real help. “Where did you come from?” she asked gently.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
Nikolai remained silent, revealing that he had run from a “bad place.”
“Where’s your mother now?” she probed.
That perked him up a little. “You will help Mama?” he asked, sniffing.
Sienna stuttered for a second but nodded, “Of course we will, sweetheart. Just tell us how we can find her.”
“I see bear on wall and flowers in garden… flowers like sky. I run to wire wall, but big dog is there,” Nikolai sobbed again. “I bad son. I run, and now Mama alone.”
A knock interrupted them. It was the police answering Thomas’s earlier call. Nikolai panicked and tried to escape through a window, despite Sienna saying, “It’s okay, it’s the police. They’ll help us find your mom!”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
But the frightened boy bolted, eluding both Sienna and the police. The next day, she and Thomas took the initiative to search for Nikolai themselves. They distributed his photo around the neighborhood, encountering various reactions but no solid leads.
One of their curious neighbors, Nancy, recognized the ‘ghost’ from their anniversary photo. She joined the search, and others eventually did, too.
Finally, Sienna arrived at a neglected Victorian house and knocked. No response. She jumped at the sound of barking nearby. It was coming from behind a metal fence. “Wire wall,” she whispered, looking around, noting the chicory flowers as Nikolai’s words came to mind.
Investigating further, she found a boarded window and heard a woman’s plea for help from inside. She had her phone in her hand in a second to call the police. She then called Thomas. Soon, he arrived, and other neighbors gathered.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
The authorities got there and broke into the house, discovering Nikolai’s mother, who cried gratefully and explained her story. “I’m Asya. I came here with my boy to build new life. Marry man, but he… monster! He kept me prisoner,” she explained in broken English.
The search for Nikolai led to the basement, where he was found and quickly reunited with his mother. A police officer thanked Sienna for her role in the rescue. “Ma’am, thank you for alerting us to this situation. Your quick response helped these people.”
“What about the man who did this?’ Sienna asked, wrapping her arms around herself.
The officer reassured her, “We’ve already sent officers to arrest him at his job. Nikolai and Asya will be taken to a safe place. It seems she came here from Russia as some kind of mail-order bride. The legality of her immigrant status is unknown at this point, but we’ll ensure they get the help they need.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Nikolai saw them then and came over. He uttered, “Thank you. Mama and Nikolai safe now.” He went back to his mother, waving. They were then escorted by a kind social worker, who was taking them to a shelter.
After a while, Thomas and Sienna returned home. They sat back on the couch, sighing in disbelief that their picture led to all this. Thomas snapped his fingers as if he remembered something, and Sienna watched curiously, tilting her head as he reached for his briefcase.
“I believe the latest photo for the mantle deserves a special place,” he announced, holding up a framed print of the now-infamous photo the couple had posted on social media.
“It’s the best of the bunch,” Sienna quipped, and they both giggled.
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Neighbor Asked My Son to Shovel Snow for $10 a Day but Refused to Pay — So I Taught Him a Lesson He’ll Never Forget
When my 12-year-old son Ben took up our wealthy neighbor’s offer to shovel snow for $10 a day, he couldn’t wait to buy gifts for the family. But when that man refused to pay, calling it a “lesson about contracts,” Ben was heartbroken. That’s when I decided to teach him a lesson he’d never forget.
I’d always known my son Ben had a bigger heart than the world seemed to deserve. He was only 12 but carried a determination that could humble men twice his age.
A boy carrying many books | Source: Midjourney
Even so, I never imagined I’d be standing in the icy driveway next to my husband, exacting revenge against the man who thought cheating a child was just another business move.
It all began on a snowy morning early in December. Ben was buzzing with excitement after shoveling the driveway while I made breakfast. He burst into the kitchen, cheeks flushed from the cold.
“Mom, Mr. Dickinson said he’ll pay me $10 every time I shovel his driveway!” His grin stretched ear to ear.
A smiling boy | Source: Midjourney
Mr. Dickinson, our neighbor, was as insufferable as he was wealthy. He always bragged about his business ventures and showed off his luxury toys.
It wasn’t hard to guess he thought he was doing us all a favor by letting Ben “earn” his money. Still, Ben’s excitement was contagious, and I wasn’t about to crush his enthusiasm.
“That’s wonderful, sweetheart,” I said, ruffling his hair. “What’s the plan for all this cash?”
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
“I’m buying you a scarf,” he said with the seriousness only a 12-year-old could muster. “And a dollhouse for Annie.”
His eyes sparkled as he described every detail of the red scarf with tiny snowflakes, and the dollhouse with working lights that Annie had been obsessed with since she saw it in the toy store’s window display.
My heart swelled. “You’ve got it all planned out, huh?”
A happy woman | Source: Midjourney
He nodded, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “And I’m saving what’s left for a telescope.”
Over the next few weeks, Ben became a blur of determination. Every morning before school, he bundled up in his oversized coat and boots, a knit hat pulled low over his ears. From the kitchen window, I watched him disappear into the frosty air, shovel in hand.
The muffled scrape of metal on the pavement echoed through the stillness.
A boy shoveling snow | Source: Midjourney
Sometimes he’d stop to catch his breath, leaning on the shovel, his breath forming little clouds in the freezing air. When he came inside, his cheeks were red, his fingers stiff, but his smile always shone through.
“How was it today?” I’d ask, handing him a cup of hot chocolate.
“Good! I’m getting faster,” he’d reply, his grin lighting up the room. He’d shake snow off his coat like a dog shedding water, sending damp clumps onto the rug.
A rug in an entrance hall | Source: Pexels
Each evening, Ben would sit at the kitchen table, tallying his earnings. The notepad he used was dog-eared and smudged with ink, but he treated it like a sacred ledger.
“Only 20 more dollars, Mom,” he said one night. “Then I can get the dollhouse and the telescope!”
His excitement made the hard work seem worth it, at least to him.
By December 23rd, Ben was a well-oiled machine of winter labor.
A person shoveling snow | Source: Pexels
That morning, he left the house humming a Christmas carol. I went about my day, expecting him to return as usual, tired but triumphant.
But when the door slammed open an hour later, I knew something was wrong.
“Ben?” I called out, rushing from the kitchen.
He stood by the door, his boots half-on, his gloves still clenched in his trembling hands. His shoulders heaved, and tears clung to the corners of his wide, panicked eyes.
A sad boy | Source: Midjourney
I kneeled beside him, gripping his arms. “Sweetheart, what happened?”
He wouldn’t talk at first, but eventually, he told me everything.
“Mr. Dickinson… he said he’s not paying me a single cent.”
The words hung in the air, heavy as a stone.
“What do you mean, he’s not paying you?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.
Ben sniffled, his face crumpling.
A boy sobbing | Source: Midjourney
“He said it’s a lesson. That I should never accept a job without a contract.” His voice cracked, and the tears spilled over. “Mom, I worked so hard. I just don’t understand. Why would he do this?”
Anger surged through me, sharp and blinding. What kind of person cheats a child as a “business lesson”? I pulled Ben into a hug, pressing my hand against his damp hat.
“Oh, baby,” I murmured. “It’s not your fault. You did everything right. This is on him, not you.” I pulled back, brushing his hair from his face. “You don’t worry about this, okay? I’ll take care of it.”
A determined woman | Source: Midjourney
I stood, grabbed my coat, and stormed across the lawn. The sight of Dickinson’s house, glowing with holiday cheer, only stoked my fury. Laughter and music spilled into the cold night as I rang the doorbell.
He appeared moments later, wine glass in hand, his tailored suit making him look like a villain straight out of a bad movie.
“Mrs. Carter,” he said, his voice oozing false charm. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
A man raising one eyebrow | Source: Midjourney
“I think you know why I’m here,” I said evenly. “Ben earned that money. You owe him $80. Pay him.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “No contract, no payment. That’s how the real world works.”
I clenched my fists, willing myself to stay calm. I opened my mouth to argue about fairness and the cruelty of his supposed lesson, but the look in his eyes told me none of that would persuade him to do the right thing.
A man staring ahead | Source: Midjourney
No… there was only one way to deal with the Mr. Dickinsons of the world.
“You’re absolutely right, Mr. Dickinson. The real world is about holding people accountable.” My smile was so sweet it could’ve rotted teeth. “Enjoy your evening.”
As I walked away, an idea began to form. By the time I stepped back into our house, I knew exactly what had to be done.
A furious woman | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, while Dickinson and his guests still slept, I woke the household with a determined clap of my hands.
“Time to go, team,” I said.
Ben groaned as he crawled out of bed, but caught the determined gleam in my eye. “What are we doing, Mom?”
“We’re righting a wrong.”
A determined woman | Source: Midjourney
Outside, the air was bitter and still. My husband started the snowblower, the rumble cutting through the early quiet. Ben grabbed his shovel, gripping it like a sword. Even Annie, too small for the heavy work, bounced along in her boots, ready to “help.”
We began with our driveway, then moved to the sidewalk, clearing paths for the neighbors. The pile of snow grew steadily as we pushed it all toward Dickinson’s pristine driveway.
The cold bit at my fingers, but the satisfaction of each shovelful fueled me.
A person shoveling snow | Source: Pexels
Ben paused to catch his breath, leaning on his shovel. “This is a lot of snow, Mom,” he said, a smile creeping onto his face.
“That’s the point, honey,” I said, piling another scoop onto the growing mountain. “Think of it as a reverse Christmas miracle.”
Annie giggled as she pushed tiny mounds of snow with her toy shovel. “Mr. Grumpy’s not going to like this,” she chirped.
By mid-morning, Dickinson’s driveway was buried under a fortress of snow.
A huge pile of snow in a driveway | Source: Midjourney
It was higher than the hood of Dickinson’s sleek black car. I dusted off my gloves, stepping back to admire our handiwork.
“That,” I said, “is a job well done.”
It wasn’t long before he noticed. Soon, Dickinson stormed over, his face as red as the Christmas lights on his roof.
“What the hell have you done to my driveway?” he bellowed.
A man shouting at someone | Source: Midjourney
I stepped outside, brushing off my gloves like I had all the time in the world. “Oh, Mr. Dickinson, this is a little something called quantum meruit.”
“Quantum what?” His eyes narrowed, his confusion almost comical.
“It’s a legal concept,” I explained with a smile. “It means if you refuse to pay for someone’s labor, you lose the right to enjoy the benefit of it. Since you didn’t pay Ben, we simply undid his work. Fair’s fair, wouldn’t you agree?”
A woman glancing to one side | Source: Midjourney
Dickinson sputtered, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “You can’t do that!”
I gestured toward the neighbors who had gathered to watch, their smiles thinly veiled. “Actually, I can. And if you’d like to call a lawyer, keep in mind that I have plenty of witnesses who saw you exploit a minor for free labor. That wouldn’t look great for someone like you, now would it?”
He glared at me, then at the crowd, realizing he’d lost. Without another word, he turned on his heel and stomped back to his house.
A house decorated for Christmas | Source: Pexels
By evening, the doorbell rang again, and there stood Dickinson, holding an envelope. He didn’t look me in the eye as he handed it over.
“Tell your son I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
I closed the door and handed the envelope to Ben. Inside were eight crisp $10 bills. Ben’s smile was worth more than all the money in the world.
Cash in an envelope | Source: Pexels
“Thanks, Mom,” he said, hugging me tight.
“No,” I whispered, ruffling his hair. “Thank you for showing me what real determination looks like.”
Here’s another story: When I arrived at the hospital to bring home my wife and newborn twins, I was met with heartbreak: Suzie was gone, leaving only a cryptic note. As I juggled caring for the babies and unraveling the truth, I discovered the dark secrets that tore my family apart.
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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