They say that neighbors can either become friends or enemies, but I never thought mine would turn into both at once. It all started with a simple favor, but before I knew it, it spiraled into a bitter fight, and I was left reeling from the mess of it all.
My name is Prudence. I’m 48, a mother of two, and I work from home for a call center. Life hasn’t been easy, and it definitely hasn’t turned out the way I imagined. Six years ago, my husband, Silas, walked out of our lives, leaving me to pick up the pieces of our broken family.
I never thought I’d end up standing in my kitchen, scrubbing the countertop for the third time, thinking about how everything had changed. I used to dream of a different life, one where we built something great together. But those dreams shattered the night Silas left, saying he needed “space to find himself.” That space became his escape, and he never came back.
I was left with two young kids—Damien, who was eight at the time, and Connie, just a baby. Silas walked away, and I was left to figure things out on my own.
“Mom, can I have some cereal?” Connie’s small voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked down at her, her wide brown eyes full of innocence as she sat at the kitchen table.
“Sure, honey. Just give me a second,” I replied, forcing a smile as I reached for the cereal box on the top shelf.
Damien, now 14, walked into the kitchen, his earbuds in, his eyes glued to his phone. “I’m heading out to meet Jake, okay?” he mumbled, barely looking up.
“Don’t stay out too late. And remember, homework first when you get back,” I called after him as he rushed out the door, not bothering to respond.
Another day in the life I’d been trying to hold together. It wasn’t easy. Raising two kids, trying to keep a roof over our heads, and still holding onto some shred of hope wasn’t a walk in the park.
My call center job helped, but it wasn’t my dream. But right now, a job was all I had, and sometimes that’s enough.
That’s when Emery, the new neighbor, knocked on my door. I opened it to find her looking disheveled, her eyes red from lack of sleep.
“Hey, Prudence, can I ask you for a huge favor?” she said, her voice cracking.
“Of course, Emery. What’s going on?” I stepped aside to let her in.
She sighed, sinking into the couch like she might collapse at any moment. “I had this crazy party last night, and then I got called out of town for work. The place is a disaster, and I don’t have time to clean it up. Could you, um, help me out? I’ll pay you, of course.”
I hesitated. My shift started in a couple of hours, but the thought of earning extra money was tempting. We could really use it.
“How much are we talking about?” I asked, folding my arms.
“Two hundred and fifty dollars,” she said quickly. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t an emergency.”
I thought for a moment. “Alright, I’ll do it.”
“Thank you so much! You’re a lifesaver!” Emery hugged me before rushing out the door, leaving me standing there, wondering what I had just agreed to.
I should have known. Emery’s house was a mess. It was worse than I expected—empty bottles, half-eaten food, trash everywhere. It looked like a war zone.
I stood in the middle of her living room, hands on my hips, trying to figure out where to even start. Two solid days of scrubbing, sweeping, and hauling trash out of that house. My back ached, and my hands were raw by the time I was finished. But I kept reminding myself of that $250 she promised.
When Emery finally came back, I was ready to collect.
“Emery, it’s done. Your house is spotless,” I said, trying to hide my exhaustion. “So, about the payment…”
She blinked at me, confused. “Payment? What payment?”
I froze. “The $250 you promised for cleaning up your house. Remember?”
She stared at me, her face shifting from confusion to annoyance. “Prudence, I never agreed to pay you anything. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I stood there, stunned. “What do you mean? We had an agreement. You said you’d pay me.”
“No, we didn’t,” she snapped. “Look, I’m late for work, and I don’t have time for this.” She pushed past me, heading for her car.
“Emery, this isn’t right!” I called after her, but she didn’t even look back. She just drove off, leaving me standing there, fuming.
Two days of hard work, and she had the nerve to pretend like we never made a deal. My anger was rising, but I knew I had to keep calm. I didn’t want to drag my kids into this mess, but I also wasn’t going to let her get away with it.
I marched back to my house, slammed the door behind me, and paced the living room, trying to think. Connie was playing with her dolls, and Damien was still out. I wasn’t going to let this go. It wasn’t just about the money anymore. It was about respect.
“Alright, Prudence,” I muttered to myself, “you’ve got to be smart about this.”
Then, an idea hit me. It was risky, but I didn’t care anymore. If she wanted to play dirty, I could play dirty too.
Twenty minutes later, I found myself at the local garbage dump, pulling on old gloves. I wasn’t proud of what I was about to do, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
I loaded up my trunk with garbage bags, the stench almost making me gag. But I pushed through, determined to make Emery understand the consequences of crossing me.
I drove back to her house, my heart pounding. When I arrived, the street was quiet. Perfect. I popped the trunk and started hauling the bags to her front door.
That’s when I realized something: Emery had forgotten to take her house key back. She had been in such a hurry when she left, she didn’t even think about it.
I hesitated for a moment, but then the thought of her dismissing me, pretending nothing ever happened, spurred me on. I wasn’t about to let her get away with it.
I unlocked the door and stepped inside. The house was still spotless. For now. I tore open the garbage bags, dumping their contents all over her floors, her counters, and even her bed. Rotten food, old newspapers, dirty diapers—everything mixed together in a disgusting heap.
“This is what you get, Emery,” I muttered under my breath. “You wanted to play games? Well, game on.”
I closed the door behind me, locked it, and slipped the key under her welcome mat. As I walked back to my car, I felt a mix of satisfaction and guilt. But I shook it off. Emery had brought this on herself.
That evening, just as I was putting Connie to bed, I heard furious banging on my door. I knew who it was without even having to look.
“Prudence! What the hell did you do to my house?!” Emery screamed, her face bright red with anger.
I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Emery. How could I have gotten into your house? We never had any agreement, remember? So, I never had the keys.”
She just stared at me for a moment, her mouth hanging open in disbelief, before her face twisted into rage. “You—you’re lying! I’m calling the police! You’re going to pay for this!”
I didn’t flinch. “Go ahead and call them. But how are you going to explain how I got in? You can’t, because according to you, I never had the key.”
Emery opened her mouth to argue, but no words came out. Her face turned even redder, and she stormed off, muttering to herself.
I watched her go, my heart still pounding, but this time, it wasn’t just anger. There was a sense of justice, like the scales were finally balanced.
I wasn’t worried about the police. I knew Emery had learned her lesson. Don’t mess with Prudence.
As I closed the door, I exhaled slowly, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. I knew I’d crossed a line, but in that moment, it felt like the only way to make things right.
Sometimes, you have to stand up for yourself, even if it means getting your hands dirty. And as for Emery? Well, I had a feeling she wouldn’t be asking me for any more favors anytime soon.
