When I first saw the cruel message scribbled on my grandpa’s dusty car, I was absolutely furious. But discovering who did it was just the start. What I did next made sure this rude neighbor would never forget the lesson she was about to learn.
It all began two months ago when I was at work, and my phone rang. It was Mom, and her voice was shaky, almost breaking, as she told me that Grandpa had been rushed to the hospital after suffering a heart attack. My heart dropped. Grandpa Alvin wasn’t just my grandpa—he was my rock, my confidant, my favorite person in the world. The thought of losing him was unbearable.
I can hardly remember the drive to pick up Mom or the frantic rush to the hospital. Those 45 minutes on the road felt like an eternity, filled with anxiety and fear as Mom quietly cried beside me. When we finally arrived, the doctor reassured us that Grandpa had pulled through the surgery, but he would need plenty of rest, a strict diet, and absolutely no stress.
A few days later, Grandpa was discharged, but since he lived in another town, we couldn’t be there daily to take care of him. We hired a full-time nurse to look after him, cook for him, and make sure he was on the road to recovery. For two months, he didn’t leave his apartment, focusing on getting better.
Last week, I realized it had been way too long since I’d seen him. Over breakfast, I told Mom I planned to visit him that weekend, and she eagerly agreed to join me. I was excited to see Grandpa, imagining how his face would light up when he saw us.
On Saturday, I bought a bouquet of his favorite sunflowers and drove with Mom to his place. As we pulled into the parking lot, I noticed Grandpa’s old car covered in a thick layer of dust. It was obvious he hadn’t driven it since he got sick.
But as we got closer, something caught my eye and made my blood boil—a nasty message scrawled across the rear windscreen: “YOU ARE A DIRTY PIG! CLEAN UP YOUR CAR OR GET OUT OF THE COMMUNITY. SHAME! SHAME! SHAME!”
I was livid. Who could be so heartless as to write something like that on an old man’s car? Especially when he’d been too sick to even leave his apartment. Mom was equally shocked, but she gently reminded me, “Don’t let Grandpa see you upset. We’ll handle this later.” We quickly headed up to his apartment, and the joy on his face when he opened the door momentarily pushed the cruel message from my mind.
We chatted for a while, but I couldn’t stop thinking about that hateful message. Eventually, I excused myself, telling Mom I needed to take care of something, and headed straight to the security office.
At first, the guard was reluctant to show me the security footage, but when I explained the situation, he agreed to help. As we reviewed the footage, I spotted an older woman, with a snooty air about her, leisurely writing that awful message on Grandpa’s car. The guard identified her as Briana from 4C, someone who was well-known in the building for causing trouble.
Apparently, Briana had been giving Grandpa a hard time for months—complaining about every little thing, from the way his newspaper was left out to the color of his potted plants. She even tried to get him fined for minor infractions. It was clear she had no intention of showing him any kindness.
I knew I had to do something, so I came up with a plan. The next day, I printed a screenshot of the security footage showing Briana in the act and made a bold sign that read: “SHAME! SHAME! SHAME! Lady from Apt 4C is abusing elderly neighbors.” I taped it in the elevator, where everyone in the building would see it.
Within a day, Briana became the talk of the complex, and not in a good way. People started avoiding her, and she could no longer harass Grandpa or anyone else without facing the community’s judgment.
When I visited Grandpa again a few days later, he greeted me with a big hug and mentioned the drama with Briana. He didn’t know I was behind it, and I played along, acting surprised. But inside, I felt a deep sense of satisfaction.
Sometimes, you have to fight fire with fire. In situations like this, being kind isn’t enough when someone like Briana refuses to respect others.
What would you have done in my place?
