When Lexie’s mom surprises her with an expensive and meaningful graduation present, she is truly over the moon. Like any teenager, she takes to social media to talk about her gift and how grateful she is. But soon, Lexie’s absent father tries to claim that he bought her the elaborate gift. Soon, his lie begins to unravel punlicly…
My father was a ghost long before I even understood what it meant. He walked out on us when I was five, and I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve heard from him since. No birthdays, no calls, and not a dime of child support.
Nice, right?
A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney
But my mom? She’s been my everything. And it’s been the two of us against the world, and somehow, she has always made it work. And honestly, this woman has sacrificed so much to give me a shot at everything I’ve ever wanted to pursue. Out of all the things that I’ve wanted to try my hand at, music was my absolute love.
Music had always been my escape. Especially the piano. My mom had enrolled me in lessons when I was little, and from then on, I was just hooked. My dream was to compose my own music, but for me to do that I needed a professional-grade digital piano.
A little girl playing the piano | Source: Midjourney
The problem?
Those things are expensive. Like proper, expensive.
And while mom and I weren’t living in poverty, we weren’t exactly rolling in cash, either. Being a single mom and a nurse, my mother went out of her way to ensure that I could keep playing. Recently she had started working extra shifts wherever possible, cutting corners where she could, just so that I could keep playing.
More than that, even though she came home exhausted, she never complained about the long hours or the money. My mom simply believed in me.
A smiling nurse | Source: Midjourney
“Lexie,” she would say. “You’re just seventeen. And to have found something that you’re so passionate about at your age is amazing. Not to mention that you have real talent here, it’s not just a whim. You have a dream and you can get to it. I’ll do everything I can to help you achieve it.”
Fast forward to graduation.
A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
I wasn’t expecting anything other than a cake, which was our tradition at the end of every school year. I knew how hard my mom worked just to keep everything going, and there was no way I’d want anything else from her.
“I’m serious, Mom,” I said one night over dinner. “I don’t want anything for graduation. I promise you, I understand the situation and I’m more than grateful for your support.”
“Oh, darling,” she said, giving me a spoonful of mashed potatoes. “I’m your mother, it’s my job.”
A bowl of mashed potatoes | Source: Midjourney
“I know, but I want you to know that I don’t expect anything,” I said.
We went to my graduation ceremony, and my mother bawled her eyes out when it was my turn to walk the stage.
“My darling girl,” my mother said after the ceremony as she enveloped me in a tight hug. “I am so proud of you!”
A teenager in her graduation gown and flowers | Source: Midjourney
The real surprise came when I walked into our home that afternoon. There it was, my dream piano.
A high-end digital piano, complete with every feature that I needed to start composing. I couldn’t believe it. I actually cried.
It wasn’t about the piano itself, it was about how much my mother sacrificed for my dreams.
Naturally, I posted about it on social media because I was over the moon. I tagged my mom because she was the one who dreamed and inspired me. I wrote a long heartfelt caption about how she was truly the best mom in the world.
A keyboard with a pink bow | Source: Midjourney
My post got tons of likes and comments, and honestly, I was just happy to share this moment with my mother. She deserved all the credit.
“Mom, I don’t know what to say,” I told her that evening as we sat outside on the porch together.
“Baby girl, I told you. I’m your mother, this is my job,” she said.
A mother and daughter duo sitting on a porch | Source: Midjourney
Then, a few days later, something weird happened.
I got a text from one of my dad’s old friends. He was someone I hadn’t heard from in years. He congratulated me on graduating and then casually mentioned how generous my dad was for buying me such an amazing gift.
My stomach dropped immediately.
“What?” I muttered.
A teenager holding her phone | Source: Midjourney
At first, I thought that he must have been confused. But then I saw the post that made it all make sense.
My dad, the same man who hadn’t shown up for my graduation or acknowledged my existence in years, had re-posted my story on socials.
Onto his own page!
And of course, he captioned it like it was his moment. Like he had bought me the piano and had been the supportive dad all along.
A phone opened to social media | Source: Midjourney
So proud of little girl! I’ve always believed in your dreams. This is just the beginning!
I was shocked. The actual nerve of this man was insane.
I just stared at the screen in shock. This was a guy who hadn’t paid a cent in child support, who hadn’t called to check in. Even when I was twelve and I fell off a tree and had broken my arm? My mother had told him, but he didn’t bother to see me at the hospital or after.
“I just want him to sign my cast,” I remember telling my mother.
“I know, Lex,” my mother said, rubbing my arm. “But he doesn’t seem to care.”
A little girl with her arm in a cast | Source: Midjourney
So this? This was absurd.
“This man needs to pay child support,” I muttered.
But I didn’t know how to go about it. I didn’t want to embarrass him on socials because I couldn’t risk rocking the boat before those payments were settled.
Still, I was fuming inside, waiting for the day his lies would catch up to him.
A shocked girl | Source: Midjourney
Turns out, karma was already in motion.
About two weeks later, my mom and I went to a community event. It was one of those things where everyone in town shows up because it was a charity event to raise funds for the community theater.
At one point, we were chatting with a group of people, when a random guy came forward to talk to us. He started talking to my mom like they were old friends, and then he turned to me.
A crowd of people | Source: Midjourney
“Lexie!” he said excitedly. “I’m Ralph, I work with your dad! That’s how I recognized you, he’s been posting photos of you recently. He’s very proud. And that piano he got you for graduation? Wow! That was a real show of support, huh? You’re a lucky young lady.”
I felt my mom tense next to me. She didn’t even blink.
“Oh, you must be terribly mistaken, Ralph. My ex-husband hasn’t paid child support in years. He had nothing to do with the piano or any part of his daughter’s life, really.”
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
“Yeah, we’re looking at outstanding child support for about what, Mom? Thirteen years now?” I said.
The man’s face went from smug to confused.
“I’m sorry… what?” he said.
My mom didn’t let up though.
“The piano was a gift from me. I’ve been working extra hours to make sure that my daughter has everything she needs for her music career. Her father didn’t contribute at all.”
A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney
Poor Ralph just stood there, speechless.
It turns out that this man wasn’t just my dad’s coworker. He was my dad’s boss.
My dad had been spinning this tale for months, talking about how he was this amazing, supportive father who did everything for his daughter.
Well, not anymore.
A smiling man sitting in his office | Source: Midjourney
The look on Ralph’s face told me everything that I needed to know: my father was done for. His lies had caught up with him.
Not long after, he was let go because Ralph said that he couldn’t trust him at all. He was also hit with years’ worth of payments he’d been dodging, and there was no escaping it.
The courts were involved now, and he had no choice but to pay up.
A close up of an angry man | Source: Midjourney
As for me?
I’ve been spending every spare minute on that piano, composing music that I know will make my mom proud. After all, she’s the one who’s always been there, the one who truly believed in me from day one. And soon, I’ll be going off to college to study music, too.
And my dad?
Well, he learned that pretending to be a parent is a lot harder than actually being one.
A teenager playing on a keyboard | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
My Father Skipped My Graduation to Take His Stepson to the Zoo – I Taught Him a Good Lesson
When Michael’s father misses his graduation to take his stepson, Tommy, to the zoo, Michael wants to teach him a lesson. After years of being sidelined, Michael finally retaliates. He plans a graduation dinner with the intention to expose his father, but then, things take a turn…
As I watched my classmates hug their families on graduation day, the absence of my father, Henry, cast a long shadow on what should have been one of the happiest days of my life.
A graduation cap and degree | Source: Pexels
Ever since my parents’ divorce when I was ten, Dad had built a new life with Sandra and her young son, Tommy.
It was good—I wanted my father to be happy. He deserved it. Because as much as he and Mom tried, they just weren’t compatible anymore. I needed them to be apart so that they could co-exist for me.
A divorce agreement | Source: Pexels
But then, when Dad and Sandra got together, he entered a new chapter—one that seemed to include everyone but me.
Initially, things weren’t so bad, but as my father grew closer to Tommy, he began to play a bigger role in his life. He consistently missed the milestones that marked my childhood journey—my science fair victories, my soccer finals, even several birthdays.
A father carrying his son | Source: Pexels
Each absence was attributed to something involving Tommy—a school play, a baseball game, or just a day out—leaving me to celebrate or commiserate without him.
I met with my father a week before the graduation—we were having lunch at a diner, something that he still tried to keep going, even when his life got busy.
A tray of burger and fries | Source: Pexels
“I’ll be at your graduation, Michael,” my father said. “I’ll wear a suit and tie and be there, in the front row with your mom. This is a big moment in your life and I love you. Of course, I’ll be there.”
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 Neighbor Totally Ruined My Windows with Paint after I Refused to Pay $2,000 for Her Dog’s Treatment
An increasingly heated argument starts when Julia declines to pay her neighbor $2000 for a small dog accident. Julia is dealing with family issues and navigating the chaos as tensions grow. But Julia loses it and plans some heinous retaliation after her neighbor paints over her windows.
Allow me to share with you the story of the moment I nearly went insane while residing in a quiet suburban neighborhood.
I’m Julia, and I shared this sweet small home with my husband Roger and our ten-year-old son Dean for more than 10 years.
As long as you disregarded the ongoing concern for Roger’s well-being, everything was fairly wonderful. However, when Linda moved in next door, everything was different.
Linda. The mere thought of her makes my blood boil. We never got along from the day she came in with her golden retriever, Max.
At first, it was simply small things, like her loud music or the fact that she allowed Max go anywhere he wished, nothing serious. However, things took a bad turn one sunny afternoon.
Max came running over to me while I was cutting my roses in my backyard, wagging his tail like he owned the place. Really sweet dog, but intrigued. He took in certain scents, and before I knew it, he yelled.
The poor creature has a little thorn embedded in his paw. I bent down, comforted him, and carefully pulled the thorn out. I patted Max’s head after he licked my fingers.
I accompanied him back to Linda’s, perhaps anticipating a thank you. Rather, she merely stood there, frowning and with her arms crossed.
Why does my dog have a limp? How did you act? She lost her temper.
“He simply trod on a small thorn,” I retorted, attempting to remain composed. “I removed it, and he seems OK.”
She gave a huff, and I assumed that was it. How incorrect I was!
One morning, I discovered a message affixed to my door. “You owe me $2000 for Max’s treatment,” it said.
I was astounded as I stared at it. Two thousand dollars? For what purpose? The dog only received a small cut. I made the decision to visit and make everything clear.
Linda, what’s the deal? I asked, pointing to the message.
Her tone was cold as she continued, “That’s for Max’s vet bill.” “That thorn caused him pain all through the night.”
“I apologize, but that is absurd,” I answered. “As a gesture of goodwill, I’ll give you $100, but two thousand is out of the question.”
Linda squinted her eyes. “You’ll regret it or you pay up.”
Linda turned my life into a living misery the moment she met me.
Every time she drove by, she would flip me off, honk, and tip over my trash cans. Her attempt to have Dean arrested was the worst. Dean, my sweet, naive boy, was simply riding a minibike like all the other kids in the area.
I was enjoying a cup of tea on the veranda one afternoon when I heard Linda’s car horn familiarly screaming. Glaring at Dean, who was playing in the driveway, I looked up.
She said, “Get that brat off that bike before I call the cops!”
“Linda, these are only children!” Feeling my patience wane, I yelled back.
She shot back, “Your kid is a menace, and if you don’t do something about it, I will.”
I was unable to yell, weep, or take action, even though I wanted to. Since Roger was back in the hospital, I was already overburdened with trying to keep things together. Taking a deep breath, I looked up at Dean.
I kindly murmured, “Come inside, honey.” “We’ll switch up the game.”
With tears in his eyes, Dean argued, “But Mom, I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I understand, my love. Simply put, it’s complicated.
I made an effort to ignore Linda’s shenanigans and concentrate on Roger and Dean. However, it felt as though a ticking time bomb was nearby. I was always afraid of what she might do next. Finally, she pushed me over the edge.
I got the call in the afternoon of a Sunday. Roger’s condition had gotten worse, and I had to head to the hospital right away.
After gathering our belongings, I dropped Dean off at my mother’s house and hurried to the hospital.
I stayed by Roger’s side for two excruciating days, not eating or sleeping, my mind racing with worry and tiredness.
Upon my return, all I wanted was a little break, an opportunity to regain my composure.
Upon walking up my driveway, I discovered that my house had been turned into a nightmare for graffiti artists. Paint in the colors red and yellow spattered my windows, dripping in unkempt streaks.
My house appeared to have been attempted to be converted into a circus tent. And there it was, Linda’s note “Just to make your days brighter!” sitting on the doorstep!
A house covered with paint splatters | Source: Midjourney
I was shaking with fury as I stood there, my fatigue from the previous two days melting away in the fire of my fury. That was it. This was the tipping moment.
I clinched my teeth and whispered, “Dean, go inside.”
“But Mom, what took place?” His eyes wide with terror and perplexity, he questioned.
I said it again, softly this time, attempting to maintain my composure. “Just go inside, honey.”
Dean gave a nod and rushed inside, leaving me to harbor my rage on my own.
With my thoughts racing, I crumpled Linda’s paper in my hand. It had to end. Linda was going to get a war if that was her desire.
I took a drive to the hardware shop that afternoon. I strolled through the aisles, my rage melting into a detached, analytical concentration. When I saw the Japanese Beetle traps, a strategy started to take shape.
I purchased multiple packets of the beetle-attracting smell lures and traps. I put the aroma packets in the freezer as soon as I came home. The wax would be easier to work with in the cold. Anxiety mixed with excitement caused my heart to race. This needed to function.
I slipped into Linda’s yard at three in the morning while the neighborhood was silent due to the darkness.
I had the impression of a figure from one of Roger’s favorite spy films. My heart leaped at the sound of every distant leaf rustle. However, I was adamant. I hid the smell packets behind the layers of mulch in Linda’s well-kept flower beds.
By the time I was done, the first rays of morning were appearing.
I crept back inside my house, feeling my heartbeat finally begin to settle down. Despite being tired, I felt a sense of somber fulfillment as I got into bed. It was now a matter of waiting.
When I looked out my window the following afternoon, I noticed swarms of Japanese beetles descending on Linda’s garden. They were glinting in the sunlight. It was functioning.
Her lovely flower gardens were completely destroyed over the course of the following few days, the once-vibrant blossoms reduced to frayed remains.
Allow me to correct the information. Hi there, my name is Linda, and I came to this area in search of solitude.
My golden dog, Max, went into Julia’s yard by mistake and snagged a thorn in his paw, shattering that fantasy. She pulled it out as if she were doing me a favor, rather than just giving it back to him.
I asked Julia to pay Max’s vet bill the following day.
He was in discomfort and walking with a limp all night. However, she was so bold as to offer me just $100 rather than the $2000 it would have cost. I told her she would regret not paying up after our argument. Things didn’t seem to be getting out of control.
Yes, I did, a couple times knocked over her trash cans and honked as I went past, to let her know I wasn’t going to back down. However, Julia painted myself as the bad guy.
I didn’t know things had gotten out of hand until insects decimated my garden.
I was like a crazy woman, rushing around my yard. When I was picking away dead flowers on the third day, I noticed something strange hidden in the mulch. When I saw that it was a piece of plastic packaging—part of a Japanese beetle trap—my heart fell.
Someone had intentionally done this. And I knew who it was, very well.
My wrath blazing, I stormed straight to Julia’s house. I knocked on her door, presenting the proof that implicated her.
“Julia! Let yourself in!” I yelled, fury trembling in my voice.
Appearing composed as ever, she unlocked the door. “What’s going on, Linda?”
“You know what you did to my garden?” I threw the plastic fragment towards her. This was discovered in my flower bed. Yes, you did this, right?
Although Julia maintained a neutral expression, there was a hint of something—guilt, perhaps—in her eyes. “Lucina, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t tell me lies!” I let out a cry. “You destroyed my yard! Why would you act in this manner?
A wail sounded from within the home before she could respond. When I looked behind Julia, I noticed Dean, her son, seated on the floor with tears running down his face.
“Is Dad going to pass away, Mom?” With his tiny voice breaking, Dean cried.
Julia looked past me, her expression softening as she turned to greet her son. “No, sweetheart, everything will be OK. The medical professionals are exerting every effort.
I watched this scene play out while freezing in place. My rage seemed so trivial now.
Julia was more than simply my obnoxious neighbor; she was a mother taking care of her sick husband and her afraid child.
“Julia, I.” I opened my mouth, but my words stumbled. How do I put it? I hadn’t paused to think about what she might be going through since I was so overwhelmed by my rage.
With a look of fatigue on her face, Julia turned to face me. “Linda, I apologize for your garden. However, I didn’t do it. I can’t handle this anymore, let alone caring about your flowers.
My fight was gone from me. “I apologize too,” I said. “I had no idea that things were so horrible for you.”
She gave a nod, remaining silent. I recoiled, embarrassed by my own foolishness. How could it have gotten so out of control?
That being said, I kept to myself. I realized that Julia had enough on her plate and put an end to the small-time harassing. My garden recovered slowly, and although Julia and I never became friends, we were able to live in harmony together.
I still think about that period of time years later. Sometimes, in order to understand what others are going through, you have to look past your own problems. Even though Julia and I have remained estranged neighbors, we have a silent respect for one another that was developed through hardship.
Though it has been romanticized for artistic purposes, this work draws inspiration from actual individuals and events. For reasons of privacy protection and story improvement, names, characters, and details have been changed. Any likeness to real people, alive or dead, or real events is entirely accidental and not the author’s intention.
Leave a Reply