All hell broke loose when Thomas and Sienna uploaded a photo on social media to commemorate their tenth wedding anniversary. A creepy face appeared in the image, triggering a chain of events that brought the happy couple face-to-face with a horrifying truth.
Thomas quickly set the camera timer and joined Sienna in front of the fireplace, saying, “Ten years.”
Sienna responded, “Ten years of us.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
As the camera’s timer counted down, Sienna thought she heard a soft sound in the hallway behind her. Her attention flickered, but she quickly dismissed it and focused instead on their anniversary photo, another one of the pictures that captured their lives.
Their home had more than enough littered around and adorning the walls.
Thomas sighed, nostalgic all of a sudden. “I remember when we first moved in here… We spent two nights sleeping on the floor,” he said, wrinkles forming in the corners of his eyes.
Sienna added, “And now, every nook and cranny holds a piece of our story. And we also get to share these pieces with others…on social media.” She laughed, clicking on her phone and putting it away to enjoy the rest of the night.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
In the morning, the sun woke her up, but as she blinked into the light, Sienna realized that something else was also disturbing their peace.
“Check that, hon,” Thomas said, his voice thick with sleep. “It’s been pinging for a while now.”
Sienna reached for her nightstand, her eyes half-closed, and brought the phone to her face. Too many social media notifications had appeared. She checked them, rising a bit on the bed to get comfortable.
“People are saying there’s something weird in our photo,” she said, frowning. “I have several missed calls, too.”
Thomas moved his body over to see her phone. “Weird? Like what?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Sienna’s brow creased as she read some comments. “A strange face is in the background, they say. But that’s impossible, right?”
He sighed, grabbing the phone and studying the photo. “Probably just shadows or something. Don’t let it bother you.” He shook his head and gave her the phone back, then rose from the bed for the day. But Sienna continued reading.
There was one comment with a screenshot highlighting a creepy childlike face near her shoulder in their photo. “Thomas… What the hell is that?” she whispered in dread, her finger touching the screen.
Thomas, who had been brushing his teeth by then, came back and peered over. “It’s gotta be a prank.”
But Sienna was terrified, remembering the noise she had heard as the camera took the photo. So, she searched on her phone until she found the original picture in the gallery app.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“This isn’t a glitch. It’s too defined, too real. Look at its expression,” she argued, her eyes wide and wild.
Thomas still wasn’t convinced, but Sienna wouldn’t let it go. She went through the pictures. “Look. In every photo, there’s this strange, hazy presence,” she pointed out. “I think… it could be a ghost. Maybe our house is haunted.”
“We’ve lived here for a decade. We would’ve noticed,” he scoffed, but it was a broken sound. Sienna could tell that he was confused, if not entirely worried.
As they contemplated the eerie discovery, Sienna went to the spot where the camera had been and began taking photos, searching for a logical explanation. But the experiment was cut short as she screamed in fright when hands closed over her shoulders.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“Relax, love. It’s me,” her husband said, chuckling a bit. “Forget about that photo. We’ve got lunch reservations, remember?”
Sienna agreed and got ready but apprehensively looked around the house before leaving. She continued to stare intently around as Thomas opened the car door for her and later walked to the driver’s seat.
A movement made her focus on the window. The same eerie face had appeared, making her yelp. “Stop the car!” she insisted, pointing at the house. Thomas squinted but couldn’t see anything. It was gone, but Sienna was sure of what she had seen.
***
That night, Sienna was awakened by a mournful cry and footsteps in their house. “Darling, wake up. Do you hear that?” she whispered, hearing sobs from the hallway.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Thomas woke and heard the noise, too. He immediately grabbed the phone.
“We can’t call 911 for a ghost!” Sienna argued, but he insisted on protecting them from a real-life threat. After finishing the call, he grabbed his gun and went to check things out.
Sienna refused to stay behind, saying, “I’m going with you!”
They cautiously approached the source of the mysterious sounds in their home. Thomas checked the guest bedroom, but footsteps echoed downstairs. They took each step carefully, hearing more noise–another language—coming from the kitchen.
Sienna jumped a little and yelped again after finally seeing the truth about their home intruder. This was no ghost. Instead, they discovered the unsettling presence of a malnourished boy — the same one from their photo. He was crying, his pale, bony face completely covered in tears and snot.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Freeze!” Thomas shouted, but the boy sobbed and shook his head. Her husband focused on the intruder and lowered his arm, realizing there was no danger. “Hey there, it’s okay. We won’t hurt you.”
“Help?” The child’s eyes widened with hope.
Despite her racing heart, Sienna’s fear turned to sympathy at his pleas. “You’re hungry, right?” she asked, grinning tenderly.
“Hungry, yes.” The boy nodded.
“What’s your name?”
“Nikolai.”
As Sienna prepared a sandwich for Nikolai, the couple realized the boy had not meant to break in. He needed real help. “Where did you come from?” she asked gently.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
Nikolai remained silent, revealing that he had run from a “bad place.”
“Where’s your mother now?” she probed.
That perked him up a little. “You will help Mama?” he asked, sniffing.
Sienna stuttered for a second but nodded, “Of course we will, sweetheart. Just tell us how we can find her.”
“I see bear on wall and flowers in garden… flowers like sky. I run to wire wall, but big dog is there,” Nikolai sobbed again. “I bad son. I run, and now Mama alone.”
A knock interrupted them. It was the police answering Thomas’s earlier call. Nikolai panicked and tried to escape through a window, despite Sienna saying, “It’s okay, it’s the police. They’ll help us find your mom!”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
But the frightened boy bolted, eluding both Sienna and the police. The next day, she and Thomas took the initiative to search for Nikolai themselves. They distributed his photo around the neighborhood, encountering various reactions but no solid leads.
One of their curious neighbors, Nancy, recognized the ‘ghost’ from their anniversary photo. She joined the search, and others eventually did, too.
Finally, Sienna arrived at a neglected Victorian house and knocked. No response. She jumped at the sound of barking nearby. It was coming from behind a metal fence. “Wire wall,” she whispered, looking around, noting the chicory flowers as Nikolai’s words came to mind.
Investigating further, she found a boarded window and heard a woman’s plea for help from inside. She had her phone in her hand in a second to call the police. She then called Thomas. Soon, he arrived, and other neighbors gathered.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
The authorities got there and broke into the house, discovering Nikolai’s mother, who cried gratefully and explained her story. “I’m Asya. I came here with my boy to build new life. Marry man, but he… monster! He kept me prisoner,” she explained in broken English.
The search for Nikolai led to the basement, where he was found and quickly reunited with his mother. A police officer thanked Sienna for her role in the rescue. “Ma’am, thank you for alerting us to this situation. Your quick response helped these people.”
“What about the man who did this?’ Sienna asked, wrapping her arms around herself.
The officer reassured her, “We’ve already sent officers to arrest him at his job. Nikolai and Asya will be taken to a safe place. It seems she came here from Russia as some kind of mail-order bride. The legality of her immigrant status is unknown at this point, but we’ll ensure they get the help they need.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Nikolai saw them then and came over. He uttered, “Thank you. Mama and Nikolai safe now.” He went back to his mother, waving. They were then escorted by a kind social worker, who was taking them to a shelter.
After a while, Thomas and Sienna returned home. They sat back on the couch, sighing in disbelief that their picture led to all this. Thomas snapped his fingers as if he remembered something, and Sienna watched curiously, tilting her head as he reached for his briefcase.
“I believe the latest photo for the mantle deserves a special place,” he announced, holding up a framed print of the now-infamous photo the couple had posted on social media.
“It’s the best of the bunch,” Sienna quipped, and they both giggled.
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I Was Late to My Grandmom’s Funeral—When I Finally Got to Her Grave, There Was a Small Package with My Name on It
When Teresa’s grandmother passes away, she races across continents, desperate to say goodbye… but she arrives too late. Wracked with guilt, she visits the grave, only to discover a mysterious package left just for her. As Teresa navigates grief and love, she learns that some bonds transcend time, offering solace in the most unexpected ways.
When my uncle called that morning, I knew something was wrong before he said a word. His voice had this sharp, clipped edge, but I could still hear the strain in it.
A man talking on a phone | Source: Midjourney
“Grandma’s gone, Teresa,” he said. “She passed last night.”
For a moment, the world went silent. It was as if my mind refused to process the words.
“The funeral’s tomorrow,” he added. “If you’re not here, we’ll have to bury her without you.”
“What? Tomorrow?” My voice cracked. “I can’t… there’s no way I can get there that fast!”
A shocked woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Then don’t bother,” he said curtly. “She’s gone, Teresa. We won’t wait for you… we can’t.”
I stood frozen, phone in hand, the sharp beep of the call ending pulling me out of my stupor. My uncle Craig, ever the practical and unyielding one, had spoken as if my grandmother’s passing was just another event on a packed calendar.
But she wasn’t just my grandmother. She was my everything.
A smiling old woman | Source: Midjourney
She’d raised me after my mom passed, back when I was too young to understand what death meant. Grandma became my world. She stepped into the role of mom, confidante, and teacher with ease.
Life with her was a steady rhythm of love and laughter, her warmth filling the void my mother’s death left behind.
The thought of not being there for her, of not saying goodbye, tore at me.
An upset woman looking out of a window | Source: Midjourney
I booked the first flight out, throwing clothes into a suitcase without even checking if they matched. I wasn’t even sure if I had suitable funeral clothing, either. Every second felt like a betrayal.
I couldn’t bear the thought of her being lowered into the ground while I was thousands of miles away, stuck in some airport terminal.
The plane ride was unbearable. I was unable to eat, my food tray just sitting there, the food getting cold and congealing. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t watch any of the movies or listen to music.
A tray of airplane food | Source: Midjourney
I was numb.
Memories of my grandmother flooded my mind. Her stories, her hugs, her quiet wisdom… I kept telling myself I’d make it in time, but when I finally landed and called my uncle, the funeral was already over.
“We couldn’t wait, Teresa. Don’t act shocked. I told you this already,” he said flatly.
A woman standing in an airport | Source: Midjourney
By the time I arrived at her house, it was empty, stripped of the life it once held. My cousins had cleared out, leaving behind traces of their rushed goodbyes. There was a half-empty water bottle on the counter, a crumpled tissue on the sofa, someone’s forgotten lipstick on the floor.
I stood in the doorway, letting the silence engulf me.
Grandma’s favorite chair was still by the window, the blanket she’d always kept on her lap folded neatly over the back. On the side table, an unfinished knitted sock lay abandoned, the lavender yarn still threaded through the needles.
A ball of yarn and knitting needles | Source: Midjourney
I reached out, brushing my fingers against the soft fabric, and the tears came in a flood.
She had been working on this. Just days ago, she’d sat here, humming softly as she knitted, probably thinking about some old family recipes.
I sank into the chair, clutching the sock like it was a lifeline. Memories of her voice, her laughter, her love, rushed over me. The ache in my chest was unbearable, but I didn’t want it to stop.
This pain was all I had left of her.
An upset woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
When the sunlight began streaming through the window, I wiped my face and stood. There was one thing I still had to do.
I stopped at a florist and bought a bouquet of daisies, her favorite. The drive to the cemetery was a blur, my mind racing with all the things I wished I’d said, the moments I wished I could relive.
The grave was easy to find.
A bucket of daisies at a florist | Source: Midjourney
The fresh mound of dirt stood out starkly against the older, weathered headstones. My breath hitched as I approached, the reality of it hitting me all over again.
This was it. Her final resting place.
But something caught my eye. At the base of the grave, nestled in the dirt, was a small package. My name, Teresa, was scrawled on the paper in her unmistakable handwriting.
A package in a cemetery | Source: Midjourney
My hands shook as I picked it up, my heart pounding.
The package felt almost warm, as if her love had left a mark on it. I tore at the wrapping, revealing a folded note inside.
My dear Teresa, it began.
I know your uncle probably won’t let us see each other one last time. I don’t know where I went wrong with him… but he’s always been jealous of the bond we share. I need you to know this: Teresa, you are my love, my joy, and the light in the darkest of days.
I asked Rina to leave this package on my grave after I’m gone. This is so you’ll never be late again.
A woman reading a note in a cemetery | Source: Midjourney
I gasped.
Grandma had planned this? Had she known exactly how things would unfold?
And it made sense to me. Craig probably thought that Grandma was going to leave a whole lot of money to me, her house even. Not that I wanted any of it…
“Oh, Gran,” I muttered.
An old woman writing a letter | Source: Midjourney
Tears blurred my vision as I opened the smaller package inside. A gold wristwatch glinted in the sunlight, its face encircled by tiny diamonds. I turned it over, and there, engraved on the back, were the words:
Grandma and Teresa. Always and Forever.
I dropped to my knees, clutching the watch to my chest. The ache in my heart swelled to unbearable proportions. She had thought of me, even in her final days, leaving behind this symbol of her love for me.
A woman holding a watch in a box | Source: Midjourney
As I sat there, the pieces of her note lingered in my mind.
My uncle. His jealousy.
It all made sense now, the way he’d rushed the funeral, his brusque phone calls, the coldness in his voice. He’d never hidden his resentment, but to think that he’d taken it this far… refusing to wait even a few hours.
Still, as much as his actions stung, I couldn’t let them overshadow what I held in my hands. The watch wasn’t just an heirloom, it was a promise.
A man standing on a porch | Source: Midjourney
It was the promise of a connection to my grandmother that time could never erase.
The cemetery was quiet as I stood by her grave, sharing memories, apologizing for being late, and thanking her for everything she’d given me.
When I finally stood to leave, I slipped the watch onto my wrist. It felt like a piece of her was with me, tangible and eternal.
A woman standing in a cemetery | Source: Midjourney
The house was still empty when I returned, but it didn’t feel quite as suffocating anymore. I stood in the living room, looking at the remnants of her life, her unfinished sock, the framed photo of the two of us by the mantel.
Moments later, the door opened.
“Teresa,” he said. “What are you doing here? Why bother to come when everything is over?”
“How can you ask me such a question?” I gasped.
A grandmother’s living room | Source: Midjourney
“She was old, Teresa,” he said. “What did you expect? That the old woman would live forever?”
“When did you get so cruel, Uncle Craig?” I asked.
“When did you get so self-righteous?” he spat.
Before I knew it, two men from a moving company walked into the house.
Two men standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney
“I’m taking the furniture. And those expensive plates and vases. I’m going to sell them.”
“Gran will never forgive you for this,” I said simply, sitting down on the couch.
“Gran is long gone, Teresa. It’s time to move on. And don’t try to contest the will,” he said. “Gran would have given everything to me. I can’t wait to give Rose her watch. My mother would absolutely want her first-born granddaughter to have it.”
A cupboard with expensive crockery | Source: Midjourney
I pulled my sleeve down, hoping that Craig wouldn’t see the watch. I wasn’t going to hand it over. No way. But at the same time, I didn’t want to entertain Craig. He could take everything else.
A few months had passed since I left my grandmother’s house for the last time. Life had resumed its usual rhythm, or at least, that’s what it looked like from the outside.
The watch stayed on my wrist, its weight a constant reminder of her. Some days, I caught myself holding it, brushing my thumb over the inscription as if I could summon her voice.
A watch on a person’s wrist | Source: Midjourney
One evening, I made myself a cup of tea, Gran’s favorite chamomile blend, and curled up on the sofa with a blanket. The unfinished sock from her house now sat on my coffee table, neatly placed in a small knitting basket.
I picked up the knitting needles, my fingers still clumsy and awkward with the motions. She’d tried to teach me once, years ago, but I’d been too impatient to sit still.
A cup of tea on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney
“One day you’ll see,” she’d said with a knowing smile. “That knitting is like life. You just keep going, one stitch at a time.”
One stitch at a time.
A lavender sock and knitting needles | Source: Midjourney
Judy and her family get into the habit of saving money in a “family stash jar,” which is used for emergencies or family outings. But soon, she starts noticing that someone in the family has sticky fingers, helping themselves to the money. Judy has to figure out who it is and what is the reason for such dishonesty.
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.
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