It is said that neighbors can either become friends or enemies, but I had no idea that mine would quickly become both.
We were both reeling when what started out as a straightforward favor turned into a bitter feud and a twist.
I never imagined that six years after Silas left us, I would find myself standing in my kitchen scrubbing the same countertop for the third time and wondering how I became this version of myself.
I’m Prudence, 48, a mother of two who works remotely for a call center to make ends meet.
My life did not exactly go as planned. Silas and I used to dream together about the existence we needed to construct. Yet, incidentally, those fantasies broke, letting me to get the pieces be.
I let her in with a nod.
Emery was barely able to keep herself from sinking into the couch. She explained that the night before, she had a wild party, and then she was called out of town for work.
She didn’t have time to clean up the mess in her home. If I could assist her in any way, she offered to pay me.
Glancing at the clock, I hesitated.
Even though my shift was about to start, the thought of earning some extra money was appealing. We surely could benefit from it. We settled on $250 after a brief negotiation, and I got to work.
There were empty bottles, half-eaten food, and trash all over Emery’s house.
Scrubbing, sweeping, and hauling garbage out took me two full days. My hands were raw and my back hurt when I was done, but I kept thinking about Emery’s promise of $250.
We could really use that money. I went to pick up Emery when he got back.
When I mentioned the payment, she gave me a confused look with a blink.
Payment? Which amount? ” she inquired.
She said that there was no agreement, and it broke my heart.
She said she didn’t have time for this and dismissed me before going to work. In shock and furious, I stood there.
I stewed over her betrayal for the remainder of the day. I had buckled down, and she had the nerve to imagine we never made an arrangement.
I didn’t want her to get away with it.
I had to think carefully about my next move. A risky but necessary idea began to emerge as I moved through my living room. Later that day, I ended up at the neighborhood dump, stuffing bags of trash into my car.
There were times when desperate measures were required.
I kept replaying our conversation in my head on the way back, proving my plan with each mile. The street was empty when I got to her house.
Heart racing, I carried the garbage bags to her front door. As I worked quickly, I came to a conclusion: Emery had misplaced her house key in my possession.
I thought about how she dismissed me and hesitated briefly.
After unlocking her door and entering, I carefully tore open the garbage bags before scattering the contents all over her spotless house. Food that is rotten, old newspapers, and dirty diapers are all thrown together in a disgusting heap. I went out wrecked, feeling both fulfillment and responsibility.
As I was putting Connie to bed that evening, I heard loud banging on my front door.
I realized it was Emery before I even opened it. She yelled at me and asked me what I had done to her house.
I serenely denied everything, advising her that, as per her, I never had the key.
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