was tired of paying rent my whole life and was ready to fulfill my dream of buying my own house. A dream home at an unbeatable price seemed like the ultimate win—until I realized there were reasons for the low price hidden in the basement.
The first time I saw the house, I could hardly believe my luck.
It was like something from a postcard—a charming colonial with white siding and green shutters, tucked away at the end of a quiet, tree-lined street.
Sure, the paint was peeling a little, and the roof could use some work, but it had character. A lived-in charm that felt… welcoming. Almost.
Susan, the real estate agent, was waiting by the front door, her grin as bright as the clipboard of documents she waved in the air.
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“Perfect day to finalize your dream home, huh?” she said, her tone so chipper it made me wonder if she was trying a little too hard.
I nodded, eager to see inside. The house didn’t disappoint. Room by room, it seemed to reveal more reasons for me to fall in love.
The living room had a fireplace that practically begged for stockings at Christmas, and the hardwood floors creaked just enough to remind you they had a history.
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Susan trailed behind me, her heels clicking against the floor as she narrated.
“You won’t find a deal like this anywhere else,” she said, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear.
“A home like this at this price? Practically unheard of.”
She was right, and I knew it. Still, something felt off—just a whisper of doubt at the back of my mind. It grew louder when we reached the basement door.
Unlike the others, this one had a lock. Not a simple latch, but a solid, heavy-duty lock that didn’t belong in a cozy house like this.
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“What’s down there?” I asked, pointing at the door.
Susan’s smile faltered, just for a second. She quickly recovered, but the hesitation had been enough.
“Oh, the basement,” she said, waving her hand as if to dismiss it. “Just your standard storage space. I… uh… misplaced the key. I’ll have it sent over later.”
Her voice wavered, and the way she avoided my gaze made my stomach twist. But I told myself I was overthinking it.
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After all, this was my dream house, right? A place where I could start afresh.
I signed the papers, and Susan left in a hurry, her heels clicking faster than before.
By the time I started unloading boxes from my car, the sun was setting, casting long shadows across the street.
That’s when I noticed her—an older woman standing on the porch of the house next door.
Her face was a map of deep wrinkles, and her thin lips curled into a tight, disapproving line, like she’d just bitten into a lemon.
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“Hi there!” I called, trying to sound cheerful. “I’m your new neighbor.”
She didn’t answer. She just stared, her eyes narrowing before she turned and disappeared inside her house without a word.
The screen door slammed shut behind her.
I shrugged, telling myself she was probably just one of those grumpy types. Still, her silence gnawed at me.
I spent the rest of the day unpacking, trying to ignore the prickle of unease that lingered.
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By the time I collapsed onto the couch, exhaustion claimed me, and I drifted into a restless sleep, the house settling around me like it was testing me, deciding if I belonged.
I woke to a sound that pulled me from the depths of sleep, a sound I couldn’t quite place.
At first, I thought it might’ve been the wind rattling the old windows, but then it came again—soft and eerie, like a child’s giggle.
My heart started pounding, loud and insistent, and I lay still for a moment, straining to hear more. Was I dreaming?
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The giggle came again, clearer this time. High-pitched, carefree, and completely out of place in the stillness of the night.
My throat tightened as fear prickled down my spine. I sat up, scanning the darkened room.
Shadows stretched across the walls, and the only sound was the ticking of the old clock above the mantel. But the giggle was real. I knew it.
Swallowing my nerves, I grabbed the closest thing I could find—a mop leaning against the corner of the room.
My palms were already sweaty, and the handle felt slippery as I gripped it tightly.
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I crept through the house, the hardwood floors creaking beneath my feet. My breathing was shallow, and every step made my chest tighten further.
The sound grew louder as I approached the basement door. The lock on it glinted faintly in the dim light. I stopped, staring at the door as if it might move on its own.
My stomach churned as I raised the mop, holding it like a weapon. “Who’s there?” I called out, my voice shaking.
Silence. For a moment, I thought maybe the sound had been in my head.
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Then it came again—a giggle, followed by a soft, whispering hush that sent goosebumps racing up my arms.
I couldn’t bring myself to open the door. Instead, I backed away, grabbing my phone and dialing 911 with trembling fingers.
The dispatcher’s calm voice tried to soothe me, but all I could do was stammer about the noises.
Twenty minutes felt like an eternity before the flashing red and blue lights finally appeared outside.
A single officer stepped out, his posture relaxed, his face unimpressed. “So, what’s going on here?” he asked, tilting his head toward me.
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“There’s someone in the basement,” I said, trying to steady my voice. “I heard laughing.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Laughing, huh?” With a sigh, he fetched a crowbar from his car and approached the door.
The sound of the lock snapping open echoed in the quiet house. I held my breath as he disappeared down the stairs, his flashlight casting strange, flickering shadows.
Minutes later, he reappeared, shaking his head.
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“Just cobwebs and dust,” he said, his tone dripping with skepticism. “Nothing down there.”
“But I heard it!” I protested, heat rising to my face.
He smirked, shrugging.
“You’re not the first. Last few owners said the same thing. If you’re scared, maybe this isn’t the house for you.”
I clenched my fists, my frustration bubbling. “I’m not going anywhere. This is my home.”
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“Suit yourself, and good luck with the haunted house.” He left laughing, leaving me standing in the hallway, mop in hand, seething as the sound of his cruiser faded into the night.
The next morning, my phone buzzed on the counter, breaking the quiet stillness of the house.
I picked it up and glanced at the screen. A number I didn’t recognize. Hesitantly, I answered.
“Hello?”
“Hi, it’s Margaret,” a thin, raspy voice said on the other end.
“The previous owner. Just checking in to see how you’re settling in.”
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Her voice immediately put me on edge, like she already knew something I didn’t. I hesitated before replying.
“The house is lovely,” I said cautiously. “But… something strange happened last night.”
There was a pause. I could hear her breathing, soft and uneven. Then she sighed—a long, heavy sound that made my stomach drop.
“You’re not the first, Clara” she admitted finally.
“There’s… a history with that house. Some say it’s haunted. I’ve tried to fix it, but nothing ever helps.”
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Haunted? The word hung in the air like a fog. My fingers tightened around the phone. “What kind of history?” I asked, my voice firmer than I felt.
She dodged the question.
“If you want out, I’m willing to buy it back,” she said quickly, her tone almost desperate. “Not the full price, but close enough.”
Her offer was tempting. I wouldn’t have to deal with the creepy noises or the weird basement.
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But the thought of giving up made my pride bristle. I’d worked hard for this house. I wasn’t about to walk away.
“No,” I said firmly. “I’ll figure this out.”
After we hung up, I grabbed a flashlight and headed for the basement. The air was cool and damp, carrying the stale smell of mildew.
I swept the beam of light across the basement. Dusty shelves, old pipes, and cobwebs filled my view.
Then I noticed something strange—scuff marks on the floor near the vent. Faint but deliberate, like something had been moved. My pulse quickened. Something wasn’t adding up.
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That night, I lay in bed, the blankets pulled tightly around me, every muscle tense. I kept my eyes on the ceiling, listening to the silence.
It wasn’t peaceful, though. It felt like the house was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.
Then, it came. The giggle. That same eerie, childlike sound that sent chills racing down my spine.
I sat up, heart pounding, but this time, it wasn’t just laughter. A faint hissing followed, like air escaping a tire.
My chest tightened as I slipped out of bed and tiptoed downstairs, each step creaking louder than I wanted.
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When I reached the basement door, I froze. A pale mist was creeping out from underneath, curling like ghostly fingers into the hallway.
My breath caught, and I fumbled for my phone, quickly dialing 911.
It wasn’t long before the now-familiar police cruiser pulled up. The same officer stepped out, his expression a mix of annoyance and disbelief.
“Again?” he said, shaking his head as he approached.
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Before I could respond, another car pulled into the driveway. Margaret stepped out, her face pale and drawn, her movements nervous.
“I heard what’s happening,” she said, avoiding my gaze.
“Let’s all go down together,” I suggested, trying to keep my voice steady. The officer sighed but nodded, his flashlight already in hand.
Margaret hesitated, but with a glance at me, she reluctantly agreed.
The basement was just as empty as before—dusty shelves, cobwebs, and shadows.
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“See? Nothing,” the officer said, his frustration obvious. “You sure you’re not imagining things?”
I wasn’t backing down. “I set up a camera,” I said, pulling out my phone. “Let’s check the footage.”
I pressed play. The video showed Margaret sneaking into the basement.
She unlocked the door, placed a small speaker near the vent, and set up a fog machine before quickly leaving.
The officer’s jaw tightened. “Well, well,” he muttered. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a case.”
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Margaret’s face flushed red. “I… I was just trying to get the house back!” she stammered. “I didn’t mean any harm!”
The officer snapped handcuffs onto her wrists. “You can explain that to the judge.”
As they led her away, I stood in the doorway of my house, breathing deeply. For the first time, I felt like it was truly mine. I had fought for it, and I had won.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: It was a tough life for Molly. Her main concern was her son, Tommy. The constant changing of schools and towns wasn’t good for him. He started bullying other kids and starting fights. She never imagined that one call to the principal’s office would restore a part of her life she thought was lost.
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Lottie Moss had to rush to the hospital after accidentally taking too much Ozempic. The model shared that she experienced severe side effects from the drug, even though she only weighs about 9 stone.
Lottie Moss had to go to the hospital after taking too much Ozempic, which a friend had obtained from a doctor without a prescription.
The 26-year-old model became very ill, having a seizure and severe dehydration, even though she weighed about 60kg (9 stone). She said she would rather “die” than use Ozempic again. The drug is intended for people with obesity or diabetes and is currently in short supply worldwide.
Lottie Moss’s sister is Kate Moss, a famous supermodel known for her slim figure in the 1990s and her famous quote, “nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.”
Lottie described her seizure, which happened because of severe dehydration, as one of the scariest things she’s ever experienced. She said her face and hands clenching up was terrifying.
She mentioned that she wished she had known more before using Ozempic, and her weight dropped to around 53kg in a few weeks. After seeing doctors, she learned that the dosage she was using was meant for someone weighing at least 100 kilos, which is almost double her weight.
Lottie Moss has admitted to taking Ozempic and says she would rather ‘die’ than use it again
Lottie Moss explained that a few months ago, she wasn’t happy with her weight and had a friend who could get her Ozempic, but not through a proper medical channel. She didn’t go to a doctor for a proper prescription, check-ups, or tests, which are necessary when using a medication like Ozempic.
She said, “It’s a medication, and it’s dangerous. It’s meant for people with much larger body sizes. The dose I was using was for people who weigh 100 kilos or more, while I was in the 50s range.”
Lottie wished she had known more before taking it and now regrets her decision. She injected it into her leg and said it was the worst choice she ever made.
She shared a warning to others, saying, “If you’re thinking about taking it, don’t. It’s not worth it.”
On her podcast, Dream On, Lottie described the severe side effects she experienced, such as vomiting, a loss of color in her face, and a dramatic drop in weight. Before taking Ozempic, she weighed around 60 kilos, dropped to 57 kilos after the first dose, and reached a low of 53 kilos, which is just over eight stone.
Lottie Moss said she would rather not take Ozempic again, as it made her feel extremely nauseous.
She used it for two weeks, taking injections with a pen. Each week she had to take a new dose, and she felt sicker than she ever had before. She started with a lower dose but moved to a higher one, and ended up being bedridden for two days because she felt so ill and lost weight rapidly.
She began at about 60 kilos and dropped to 57 with the first dose, then to 54, and her lowest weight was 53 kilos. She described this rapid weight loss as unhealthy.
During those two days in bed, she wanted to stop taking the medication, but since it’s not like a pill you can just skip, it was already in her system and hard to stop. She even told her friend she couldn’t keep any food or water down and needed to go to the hospital because she felt so sick.
After being rushed to the emergency room, Lottie had a seizure because of severe dehydration. She described the experience as “horrible,” with her close friend having to hold her feet down while she contorted on the hospital floor.
Lottie, known from Celebs Go Dating, said the nurse was shocked when she learned the high dose of Ozempic Lottie had been taking and how much weight she had lost in just a short time.
She explained, “We went to the ER at 3 a.m., and when we told the nurse about the dose I was taking, she was horrified and said it was far too much. She also asked about my weight loss, and when I told her, she sent me straight to the emergency room, where I was wheeled through the hospital.”
Lottie added that she felt extremely sick and almost passed out when she went to the bathroom. Once she was in the examination room, she had a seizure due to dehydration, which she described as one of the scariest experiences of her life. Her friend Reece had to hold her feet down, and she felt her body and hands clenching up uncontrollably, making the situation terrifying and painful.
Lottie has talked before about how difficult it was growing up in the “toxic” fashion industry and her time in rehab for drug addiction.
She started modeling at 16 after being discovered when she was 13. She said she always felt like she was living in the shadow of her sister, Kate.
Lottie Moss has shared that she faced harsh criticism for eating on set during fashion shoots and was told by her modeling agency that she needed a 23-inch waist to walk in runway shows. She was traumatized by comments about her body and being called names like “the ham and cheese sandwich girl.” She feels lucky not to have developed an eating disorder.
Kate Moss, Lottie’s sister, was known in the 90s for the “heroin chic” look, which emphasized being extremely thin. She now regrets the phrase “nothing tastes as good as skinny feels,” and has talked about the negative comments she received from parents about their daughters having eating disorders.
Lottie believes that with the rise of Ozempic, a drug popularized by celebrities for weight loss, the harmful “heroin chic” trend is making a troubling comeback. She wants to use her experience to warn others, saying that Ozempic is meant for diabetes, not weight loss.
Lottie expressed concern that the media’s focus on extreme weight loss is harmful, especially for people with eating disorders or those struggling with their weight. She noted that the body positivity movement, which celebrated diverse body types and curvier figures, seems to be disappearing in favor of the old “heroin chic” trend. She encourages everyone to appreciate their body as it is and avoid extreme measures that could harm their health.
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