The antique clock in the hallway chimed six times, its resonant tones echoing through the quiet house. I knelt on the living room carpet, building a precarious tower of blocks with Lucas, my five-year-old stepson. He giggled, his small hands clumsily placing a wobbly blue block atop the structure.
“Careful, Lucas,” I cautioned, “it’s going to fall!”
He squealed with delight as the tower swayed, then crashed to the ground. But his laughter died abruptly, replaced by a wide-eyed stare directed towards the hallway.
“Mom says you shouldn’t touch her things,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
A shiver ran down my spine. “What do you mean, sweetie?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly.
He pointed towards the hallway, his eyes fixed on something I couldn’t see. “Mom says she doesn’t like it when you move her picture.”
My heart pounded in my chest. “Lucas,” I said, forcing a smile, “your mom… she’s not here anymore, remember?”
He shook his head, his expression serious. “No, she is. She’s right there.”
I followed his gaze, my eyes scanning the empty hallway. There was nothing there, just the familiar antique furniture and the framed photographs on the wall. Yet, Lucas’s words echoed in my mind, fueling a growing unease that had been plaguing me for weeks.
It had started with a simple whisper, a chilling confession as I tucked him into bed one night. “My real mom still lives here,” he had said, his voice barely a breath.
I had dismissed it as a child’s overactive imagination, a way of coping with the loss of his mother. But then, strange things started happening. Lucas’s toys, meticulously tidied away, would reappear in the middle of the living room floor. Kitchen cabinets, carefully organized, would be found rearranged overnight. And the photograph of Ben’s late wife, Mary, which I had moved to a less prominent spot, kept returning to its original place on the mantelpiece, perfectly dusted.
I had tried to rationalize it, to attribute it to forgetfulness or coincidence. But the incidents grew more frequent, more unsettling. And Ben, my husband, seemed oblivious, or perhaps, deliberately blind to it all.
“Ben,” I had said one evening, my voice trembling, “have you noticed anything… strange happening around the house?”
He had looked at me, his brow furrowed. “Strange? Like what?”
I hesitated, unsure how to articulate the growing sense of unease that had taken root in my heart. “I don’t know… things moving, things changing…”
He had chuckled, dismissing my concerns with a wave of his hand. “You’re just tired, darling. It’s been a stressful few weeks.”
But I wasn’t tired. I was terrified.
Now, as I looked at Lucas, his eyes wide with conviction, I knew I couldn’t ignore it any longer. Something was happening in this house, something I couldn’t explain.
“Lucas,” I said, my voice gentle, “can you tell me more about your mom? What does she look like?”
He tilted his head, his brow furrowed in thought. “She’s very pretty,” he said. “She has long hair, like you. And she wears a white dress.”
My blood ran cold. The description matched the woman in the photograph, the woman whose presence seemed to linger in every corner of this house.
“And what does she say to you?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
Lucas looked at me, his eyes filled with a chilling seriousness. “She says she’s not happy,” he whispered. “She says you’re trying to take her place.”
A wave of fear washed over me, so intense it almost brought me to my knees. I looked around the room, the familiar furniture suddenly seeming menacing, the shadows deepening in the corners. I felt a presence, a cold, unseen gaze fixed upon me.
I had married a widower, a man I loved deeply, a man who had welcomed me into his life and his home. But I had also married into a house haunted by the past, a house where the presence of his late wife lingered, a house where I was not welcome.
Woman Follows Little Boy Who Takes Leftovers from Her Restaurant Every Day — Story of the Day
Alice was suspicious that the boy who often collected leftovers from her restaurant was hiding something, so she decided to follow him one day. But what she discovered along the way astounded her.
“You got lucky, kid. We have plenty of leftovers today, and you can take all of it home,” said Steve. He was the head chef at Alice’s restaurant and would frequently keep the leftovers for Christopher, the little child who often dropped by their restaurant for food.
“Oh really? Is it actually so much food? Do I have enough to share with my friends?” Christopher’s eyes lit up.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“Yes, Chris,” Steve replied with a huge smile. “Just wait here; I’ll get the packets for you.”
Christopher was delighted after receiving the food packets. He thanked Steve with a huge smile, waved goodbye, and walked away happily.
Alice, on the other hand, had no idea this was common practice at her restaurant until she saw Christopher leave one night. However, she wasn’t convinced that he was the type to eat leftovers to keep his stomach full. “I should find out what happened to this kid. After all, he doesn’t look homeless,” she thought to herself as she watched him walk away.
For the next few days, she waited for him to come back, and when he did the third day, she met him at the restaurant. “Hi, there. Are you here for the leftovers?” she asked him gently.
“Yes!” Chris replied cheerfully. “Can you please call the cook? He must have kept those packets for me.”
Alice gave him a warm smile. “Well, there’s no need for that. I’ve prepared some fresh food for you so that you don’t eat the leftovers. By the way, what’s your name?”
“Oh, that’s really sweet of you, thank you,” Christopher replied. “My full name is Christopher, but you may call me Chris.”
“So, why don’t you eat at home, Chris?” Alice asked. “Is your mom sick?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
Christopher’s expression changed. “Well, actually … I live at an orphanage, and they don’t feed me well. Every time I come here, your employees help me. I’m grateful to you for that. Anyway, I’ll leave now,” he said and hurried away.
Alice had a sneaking suspicion that the boy had been hiding something all along. So that day, she decided to follow him. And what she saw next left her stunned.
Instead of stopping at an orphanage, Chris went to a house, left the bag of food on the porch, and ran away. Soon, an older woman came out; she looked around in puzzlement, took the bag, and went back inside.
Alice was about to knock on the door and ask that lady who she was and how she knew Christopher, but before she could, she got an urgent call from the restaurant and had to leave.
The next day when Christopher came to the restaurant again, she was already waiting for him. “There’s something you need to explain to me, Chris. I know you’ve been taking the food for somebody else. Be honest, who is she?”
“I’m sorry, I lied to you,” Chris instantly admitted. “But I’ve been taking food for my granny. She’s the only family I have now.”
Alice was stunned. “Then why do you stay in an orphanage?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Chris frowned. “When my parents passed away, my grandmother didn’t get custody because she wasn’t financially stable. She can’t even afford food, so every day, I collect food from here and drop it off at her house.”
Alice was proud of how Chris was looking after his old grandmother, but at the same time, she felt terrible for their situation. So that day, she went to his grandmother and told her everything. Christopher’s grandmother Edith was taken aback when she realized it was her grandson who had been placing food packs on her doorstep all along.
“Is it really my grandson?” Edith almost broke into tears. “Oh, my God. I miss him terribly! I’m sorry I couldn’t be of assistance to him.”
“Don’t worry, ma’am,” Alice assured her. “There’s a way I can help you and your grandson.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
That day, Alice went to the orphanage where Christopher stayed and applied for the boy’s custody. Fortunately, the formalities were quickly completed, and Christopher was able to return to his grandmother’s home.
“I don’t know how to repay you for what you’ve done Alice,” Edith thanked her. “I’ve always wanted to be with my grandson, but the circumstances were such that—” Edith began crying.
“There’s no need to thank me, ma’am,” Alice replied. “I was more than happy to help. Since I lost both of my parents when I was young, I understand the value of being surrounded by loved ones.”
Edith took Alice’s hands in hers. “I can’t make up for it, but you’re welcome to come to see us whenever you want. After all, you’re like family to us.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“That’s sweet of you, ma’am,” Alice said, almost tear-eyed. “I would love to do that. I already like Chris a lot. He’s a nice boy.”
“Oh yes, he is,” Edith agreed. “Now, I just need the means to support him.”
“Oh, in that case, I have something to offer you…”
Edith had thought that Alice would offer her a job at the restaurant, but when she heard what it was, she burst into tears again.
“I know it might be a bit too much to ask for, but ever since I lost my parents, I have had no one to look after me,” Alice said. “So, I’m looking for someone who will love me like a mother. I’m hoping you’ll accept the position. As far as Chris’ education is concerned, it’s my responsibility because I’m his guardian.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“Of course, honey,” Edith replied as he embraced her. “I’ll never be able to repay your generosity. You literally appeared in our lives like an angel.”
“You don’t need to thank me,” Alice said. “I have a family now because of you, and I think that’s the greatest wealth I can ever have.”
What can we learn from this story?
- Not all heroes wear capes. Alice saved Christopher and his grandmother from misery and played the role of a hero in their lives.
- Learn to be compassionate and kind to others. Just how Alice was to Christopher and his grandmother Edith.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a man who gave a jaw-dropping gift to his fiancé.
This account is inspired by our reader’s story and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life. If you would like to share your story
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