To hide his affair, Herman inflicts emotional distress upon his stepson. When his jilted wife, the boy’s mother, learns the truth, she calmly delivers justice.
The soft melodies of Billie Holiday filled the room, the sultry voice surrounding the entangled figures on the white sofa. Herman, in his thirties, and Jezebel, his mistress, shared stolen moments in the dimly lit living room.
“This is so naughty of us!” Jezebel whispered. “What if your wife comes home early?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Faceboo
“My wife hasn’t come home early in at least a year! We have the whole morning,” Herman insisted.
“The whole morning!” Jezebel echoed. “Well, in that case, best we make the most of it, Mr. Loverman. Kiss me like you mean it.”
“That’s not all I’m going to do; just wait,” Herman replied, tossing his sweater aside.
They lost themselves in the moment, but a creaking door interrupted them. Panic gripped the pair; Herman’s wife wasn’t supposed to be back for hours.
“Who is it?” Jezebel whispered.
“It can’t be my wife,” Herman pleaded. “She told me she was working late. Quick, get—”
The front door slammed shut, and Herman faced the music.
A young voice broke the tension. “Herman? Are you here?” Herman’s son, Jake, entered, backpack slung over his shoulders.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Facebook
“What are you doing home, Jake?” Herman asked angrily.
“They made us go home early because of a scare,” Jake explained. “They thought there was someone with a gun in the school. Herman, who is this lady?” Jake asked, looking at Jezebel.
Herman denied Jezebel’s presence. “Jake, you must be seeing things.”
“But I see a lady right there,” Jake insisted.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Facebook
Herman concocted a lie about Jake’s shock from the school scare.
“Close your eyes and count to ten. If you can’t see the ghost, it can’t see you. And you see, it’ll disappear if you do that.”
Jezebel disappeared into the bedroom as Jake obediently counted. When he opened his eyes, the woman was gone.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Facebook
“I made her disappear?” Jake exclaimed.
“You got rid of the ghost. You’re a brave young man,” Herman assured.
After coaxing Jake to keep the encounter a secret, Herman allowed him unlimited screen time.
After Jake left, Jezebel re-entered the room, disapproving of Herman’s actions. “What was that? You lied to your son?”
“Stepson,” Herman corrected. “What did you expect? Tell him about us? Admit to our affair? I’ll do whatever it takes to keep us together.”
Jezebel sighed. “Okay, cool,” she said.
“That was close, though,” Herman said. “We’ll get back to what we were doing another time!”
“Yeah,” she agreed, kissing him goodbye. “See you later, Loverman,” she added seductively.
***
Herman’s wife, Grace, returned home after sunset. Tension enveloped the dinner table as they sat down to eat. Jake seized the opportunity to share his peculiar day.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Facebook
“Mom,” he began, “we left school early today because they thought there was someone with a g un inside.”
“What…what happened?” Grace gasped.
“It was a false alarm. Everything’s fine, right, Jake?” Herman interjected.
“I’m fine,” Jake said. “But when I came home, I saw a ghost.”
“A ghost?” Grace asked, concerned.
“It’s just his imagination,” Herman intervened, concealing his panic. “Post-traumatic stress from the school scare.”
Ignoring Herman, Grace focused on Jake. “What did the ghost look like?”
“She was a lady with big, frizzy hair,” Jake explained.
“She?” Grace repeated, looking at Herman.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Facebook
Herman laughed nervously. “He must be in shock. Go watch cartoons,” he told Jake.
After Jake left, Herman leaned in, trying to placate Grace. The tension lingered.
“I’ll call the school and get Jake an appointment with the psychologist,” Grace said. “Now that you’re not working, you can take him to the appointment.”
Herman almost yelled, “I’m trying to find a job!”
“I know. But..Maybe spend less time at that Moe’s Diner you visit often and help more with Jake,” Grace suggested stiffly.
Herman didn’t say much, promising to help her with her son.
After dinner, Grace decided to talk to Jake. “Talk to the counselor at school. It might help you understand what’s going on, honey, alright?”
“Okay, Mom,” Jake said sweetly and wished Herman and Grace good night.
Herman’s heart sank in regret, realizing his secret tryst with Jezebel was unraveling. He had hoped to manage the affair, but it was proving more complicated than expected.
As they sat in the living room, Grace’s eyes locked with Herman’s. “It’s for the best that we’re taking him to a doctor. My boy’s well-being is at stake.”
They argued, and Herman again said it wasn’t needed, but Grace’s determination prevailed. “I’ll make an appointment with the psychologist for Jake! And I’m taking him there myself!”
***
In Dr. Warren’s child-friendly office, Jake’s anxiety was palpable. His tiny hands gripped the chair he sat in.
Dr. Warren greeted him warmly. “Let’s talk about what happened, Jake.”
Jake hesitated, recalling the frightening incident that brought him here and Herman’s trick with ghosts. “Herman said if I close my eyes, the ghost would disappear.”
Dr. Warren turned to Grace. “What trick did Herman show you? What ghosts?”
Grace explained Herman’s role in their lives — that he was her second husband — and Jake continued, “Herman said when I close my eyes, the ghost can’t see me, so it goes away.”
Dr. Warren addressed Jake gently. “Closing your eyes won’t make dangerous things go away. It’s important to talk to someone you trust.”
Jake nodded, sharing his fear of the ghost breaking up his family. “I saw a Iady. I am scared that lady will make Herman leave Mom.”
Dr. Warren looked at Grace. “I’m going to recommend regular visits to help Jake understand these feelings better. Jake,” he added, turning to the boy, “can you please excuse us? Your mom will be out in just a minute. I want to make an appointment for your next visit with her.”
Jake nodded and left the room.
“I divorced Jake’s father because he was unfaithful. He had an affair,” Grace told Dr. Warren.
The man nodded. “I think what’s happening with Jake is a classic case of Kleinian Projective Identification,” he said.
“Is it serious? What…what can we do?” Grace asked, concerned for her little boy.
“Don’t worry,” Dr. Warren reassured her. “It’s just a theory in child psychology based on Melanie Klein’s work. Projective identification involves a child projecting feelings onto another or the world outside, often with the intent of making the other person experience what the projector is feeling, causing delusional behavior, like Jake’s. We can deal with this.”
“I just want what’s best for Jake,” Grace said worriedly. “If you think you can help him, then we’ll do whatever it takes.”
“I’d like to work with Jake,” Dr. Warren continued. “He might need counseIing and medication. I’m here to support both of you.”
***
Grace briefed Herman on Dr. Warren’s diagnosis over dinner. “What did he call it?” Herman asked.
“Something about projecting fears onto the externaI world,” Grace said.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Facebook
“Is it a real issue?” Herman inquired.
“Yes, according to Dr. Warren. Jake might need medication,” Grace replied.
Herman Iowered his head and concentrated on eating his food. “Is something wrong?” Grace asked him.
“Uh, no, no, nothing wrong,” Herman said unconvincingly. “Just thinking.”
“I’m taking the afternoon off tomorrow and taking Jake out for lunch. I think it will be good if he and I spend some time together. Maybe he will open up about what’s troubling him.”
“Okay,” Herman agreed nervously.
At Moe’s Diner, Grace and Jake discussed the menu. Suddenly, Jake closed his eyes, claiming to see the ghost from their living room.
“The ghost? Are you sure, honey?” Grace asked, worried and concerned.
Jake pointed to the frizzy-haired waitress, Jezebel. Grace approached her, inquiring about any unusual experiences at the restaurant. But Jezebel denied any ghostly occurrences.
Grace, suspicious, pressed on, “It’s just that sometimes kids pick up on things, you know? Strange vibes or unusual occurrences. It would put my mind at ease to know if there’s anything unusual about this place. For my son’s sake.”
Jezebel dismissed Grace’s doubts, claiming that Jake had an overactive imagination. Grace thanked her and returned to the table.
But the woman sensed something off about Jezebel. Pieces of the puzzle were falling into place, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that the truth was within reach.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Facebook
When Jezebel dropped the food, Grace said nothing. Jake closed his eyes and began counting again.
“It’s okay now, Jake, she’s gone,” Grace assured. Jake opened his eyes, focusing on his ice cream.
Grace had an idea. “Jake, should we call Herman and ask him to join us for lunch?”
Jake nodded unenthusiastically.
Grace smiled, pleased. “But my phone’s dead. I’ll ask the waitress if I can use hers.”
Approaching Jezebel, Grace said, “My phone’s almost flat. Can I use yours to make a quick call to my office?”
Jezebel handed her phone reluctantly. “No problem. Go right ahead,” she said.
Grace dialed Herman’s number and got the shock of her life when the caller ID on Jezebel’s phone revealed “Loverman.” Shocked, Grace hung up quickly and returned to the table. But now the truth was out.
With a weak smile, she encouraged Jake to finish his food soon.
After arranging a playdate for Jake, Grace returned home. Settling on the sofa, she reached for her phone, dialing Dr. Warren.
“It’s Grace. I need your guidance and support.”
Grace recounted the events, revealing her plan to remove Herman’s belongings. Dr. Warren supported her decision.
Soon, the removal men arrived, packing up Herman’s things.
When Herman arrived, he was shocked. “Grace, what’s going on? What are these men doing with our things?” he asked, baffled.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Facebook
Grace imitated the charade Herman had once played with their son, a mocking smile on her lips.
“Herman, what men? I don’t see any men. You must be seeing ghosts. Oh, and to be clear, those are not our things; they are your things.”
Herman’s face paled. The tables had turned.
His voice quivered, “Grace, you must believe me. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I—”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Facebook
Grace cut him off, her voice firm and unwavering. “Herman, there is no room for excuses. The time for lies and infidelity is over. You know what you are to me now? A ghost!”
Herman’s eyes twisted up with regret, but Grace’s resolve held. She explained that all of his personal items were being moved to a storage facility, signaling the end of their shared life together.
“I’ve also been in consultation with Dr. Warren, and we’ve initiated criminal charges for emotional abuse. The police will be here shortly.”
Soon, two officers arrived, their badges glinting. They informed Herman of his rights and took him away; justice was served.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Facebook
Grace, feeling vindicated, turned to the door, closed her eyes, and counted to ten – her way of making Herman’s ghost disappear.
Opening her eyes, she saw Jake, who ran to her and embraced her.
Grace held him close. The road ahead was uncertain, but they were united, and they would face whatever challenges that lay ahead with courage and love.
Entitled Brat Threw Trash in Front of Elderly Garbage Lady, Saying ‘Pick It Up, It’s Your Job’ – Karma Instantly Hits Back
Entitled Brat Threw Trash in Front of Elderly Garbage Lady, Saying ‘Pick It Up, It’s Your Job’ – Karma Instantly Hits Back
Colin here, ready to serve up a story so satisfying, it’ll make you believe in instant justice. Picture this: a young punk with an attitude messes with our neighborhood’s garbage guardian. Let’s just say, his trash talk went straight to the landfill. This tale has a pungent beginning, a hilarious middle, and a sweet, sweet ending you won’t want to miss.
A young man standing next to his car in a neighborhood | Source: Midjourney
I’m a 35-year-old guy living in a quiet, friendly neighborhood. We’ve got this amazing elderly lady, Mrs. Johnson, who’s been our garbage woman for years. She’s in her 70s, sweet as pie, and always goes the extra mile to keep our streets clean. Everyone respects her… well, almost everyone.
Enter Jake. This entitled brat just moved into the area. He’s in his 20s, living off his parents’ money, and acts like he owns the place. You know the type. He’s blasting loud music at all hours, leaving his stuff everywhere, and just being a general nuisance.
A man walking his dog in the neighborhood | Source: Midjourney
So, last week, I was out walking my dog, Max, when I saw something that made my blood boil. Mrs. Johnson was doing her rounds, picking up trash when Jake strutted out of his house with this big bag of garbage.
Instead of walking the few extra steps to the garbage truck, he threw the bag right in front of Mrs. Johnson. He sneered, “Pick it up. It’s your job.”
An elderly lady picking up trash in a neighborhood | Source: Midjourney
I could see Mrs. Johnson was hurt and a bit shaken, but she didn’t say anything. She just bent down to pick up the bag. That was it for me. I couldn’t let this slide. But just as I was about to step in, karma beat me to it in the most spectacular way.
Jake, feeling all high and mighty, turned to walk back to his house. But in his arrogance, he didn’t see a patch of wet leaves, and he went down hard, landing right in a puddle of mud. His fancy clothes were drenched and filthy in an instant.
A young man falls into a puddle of muddy water | Source: Midjourney
I couldn’t help but chuckle, but the real revenge was yet to come.
Seeing the opportunity, I grabbed my phone and quickly called a couple of neighbors who were part of our community watch. They arrived within minutes, and we all surrounded the guy, who was covered in mud and trying to clean himself off.
“Hey buddy,” I said, trying to keep a straight face, “looks like you had a little accident. Need a hand?”
An elderly man scolding a young man with muddied clothes | Source: Midjourney
He glared at me but didn’t say anything. One of the neighbors, Mr. Parker, who happened to be a retired police officer, stepped forward.
“You know,” he said, “Mrs. Johnson here is a respected member of our community. We don’t take kindly to people disrespecting her.”
The young guy’s face turned pale. He realized he was outnumbered and out of his league. Mrs. Johnson, bless her heart, walked over to him, still holding the trash bag he had thrown.
Garbage bags lying outside a house in a neighborhood | Source: Midjourney
“I believe this is yours,” she said, handing it back to him with a sweet smile.
Humiliated, he took the bag and mumbled an apology. But we weren’t done yet.
Our retired officer neighbor, Mr. Daniels, suggested, “How about you spend the next hour helping Mrs. Johnson with her rounds as a way of making amends?”
Jake’s eyes widened in horror, but he knew he had no choice. He nodded reluctantly.
A young man in muddied clothes picking up trash in a neighborhood | Source: Midjourney
“Great,” Mr. Daniels said. “Grab a pair of gloves from Mrs. Johnson’s truck. You’re on duty now.”
So, for the next hour, we all watched as this entitled brat followed Mrs. Johnson around, picking up trash and doing the job he had mocked her for. At first, Jake tried to keep his distance, barely touching the trash, but Mrs. Johnson wouldn’t have any of that.
“Come on now, you need to do it properly,” she said, pointing to a pile of leaves and litter. “Get in there and make sure it’s clean.”
A pile of fallen leaves and litter on the side of the road in a neighborhood | Source: Midjourney
Jake sighed but bent down to pick up the trash. As time went on, he got sweatier and dirtier, his fancy clothes ruined. He was clearly out of his comfort zone, but he had no choice but to keep going.
I couldn’t help but smile as I watched him struggle. Karma was working its magic.
At one point, Mrs. Johnson stopped to take a sip of water. “Are you doing alright, Jake?” she asked kindly.
An elderly garbage lady standing next to a garbage truck in a neighborhood | Source: Midjourney
Jake, panting and red-faced, just nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he muttered, clearly anything but.
The neighbors, including Mr. Parker and Mr. Daniels, watched with satisfaction. We all knew this was a lesson Jake needed to learn.
By the end of the hour, Jake was a mess. Sweaty, dirty, and thoroughly humbled, he trudged back to Mrs. Johnson’s truck to return the gloves. As he handed them over, he muttered another apology. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Johnson.”
A young man in muddied clothes is talking to an elderly garbage lady in a neighborhood | Source: Midjourney
She nodded graciously. “Remember, young man, respect is earned through actions, not words.”
He gave a small nod and walked back to his car, looking defeated. As he drove off, I had a feeling he’d think twice before disrespecting anyone again, especially someone as hardworking and kind as Mrs. Johnson.
We haven’t seen Jake since that day. Maybe he moved out, or maybe he’s just laying low. Either way, the neighborhood feels a bit more peaceful now.
A man smiling while standing in a quiet neighborhood | Source: Midjourney
There you have it, folks. Proof that karma can be swift and satisfying. Remember, what goes around truly does come around. Thanks for reading, and perhaps take a moment to reflect on the power of karma in your own life.
Much like Colin witnessing Jake’s entitled behavior toward the respectable Mrs. Johnson, the woman in our next story observed something similar in a slightly different setting.
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