I had just moved to a new town, hoping for a fresh start, but my neighbor Catherine made sure to ruin everything. She complained constantly and even stole my Halloween decorations. Determined to catch her in the act and get revenge, I set up a camera. What I discovered was far more shocking than I ever expected.
I had just finished setting up the Halloween decorations at my new house, feeling a little proud of how it all looked. Orange pumpkins, spider webs, and cute ghosts lined the front yard, ready for the kids who would come trick-or-treating.
It felt good to be settled after moving to this town just a month ago. My job was great, the house was cozy, and the town itself seemed charming—except for one thing: my neighbors.
Since the day I moved in, it felt like they had it out for me. It started with small things—comments about where I parked or how I didn’t trim my bushes the “right way.”
They would glance at me disapprovingly if I said “hi” in a way they didn’t like. It didn’t take long for the hostility to grow. One evening, they even called the police because I had my music on—at 7 p.m.! I couldn’t believe it.
The worst of them all was Catherine, who lived across the street. She was relentless, always coming over to complain about something. Once, she even stole my flowerpots, claiming they “didn’t fit the neighborhood vibe.”
I was beyond frustrated. Still, as I looked at my newly decorated house, I hoped at least this would be left alone. Just one thing that could bring some joy.
I’ve loved Halloween for as long as I can remember. It wasn’t just about the decorations or the candy; it reminded me of simpler times, warm childhood memories.
But this year, it felt different—darker. There was a hole in my heart where my dreams of having children used to be. It hurt to know I’d never create those special memories for my own kids.
Halloween, though, allowed me to heal a little, one bag of candy at a time. I poured it into a pumpkin, setting it out for the kids, and went inside, hoping for the best.
The next morning, my heart sank. All my decorations were gone. The only pumpkin left had been smashed, and the candy stolen. Tears welled up as I covered my mouth, overwhelmed by frustration and sadness. This was too much. I wasn’t going to let it slide. I knew who had done it, and I was determined to make her pay!
I stormed across the street and pounded on Catherine’s door, my anger bubbling over.
“Catherine! Open up! You’re a real witch!” I shouted, not caring who else heard.
After a few moments, the door flew open, and there she was, glaring at me.
“Have you lost your mind?” she yelled, hands on her hips.
“What did you do with my decorations?” I demanded, my voice shaking with fury.
“I didn’t touch your stupid decorations! Though they looked awful, if you ask me!” she shot back. “But I’m not ruining Halloween for the kids.”
“Just like you didn’t steal my flowerpots?” I screamed, stepping closer.
“Maeve, you’re crazy! You have no proof it was me!” she shouted, her face red. Then, with a loud slam, she shut the door in my face.
I stood there, shaking. “Witch!” I yelled at the closed door.
As I stood there, I realized that some of the neighbors had come outside, watching the whole scene. Their curious eyes were fixed on me, and I could already imagine the whispers behind my back.
They probably thought I was the crazy one now. I just wanted to do something nice for Halloween, and it had all been ruined. My throat tightened, and I could feel the tears building up again. Without another word, I turned and walked back home, my chest heavy with sobs.
Inside, I sat down, wiping my eyes. I couldn’t let this go. Halloween meant too much to me. I refused to let Catherine or anyone else destroy it. That evening, I made up my mind.
I went to the store, buying new decorations and candy. When I finished putting everything back up, I carefully placed a small camera among the decorations. This time, if she messed with them, I would have proof.
In the middle of the night, I woke up to a strange noise. My heart raced as I looked out the window. All my decorations were gone. Again. Anger bubbled up inside me as I quickly threw on my slippers and rushed outside.
The cool night air hit my face as I ran to grab the camera I had set up earlier. This time, I was sure I would catch Catherine in the act.
I hurried back inside and turned on the video. My eyes narrowed, ready to see Catherine, but to my shock, it wasn’t her. Instead, it was a boy—no older than 12—taking my decorations and candy. I stared at the screen, confused. I didn’t recognize him from the neighborhood.
Without thinking, I grabbed my coat and followed the direction the boy had gone. I passed house after house, but none of them seemed like his home.
I knew all the local kids, and he wasn’t one of them. Finally, I found myself standing in front of an old, abandoned house. A strange feeling came over me, urging me to go in.
Inside, it was dark and cold, the air damp and heavy. I pulled my cardigan tighter, my steps careful on the creaky wooden floors. Suddenly, I saw a faint light coming from a room. I walked in and froze.
There, huddled together, were two children—the boy from the video and a little girl, barely four years old. They were trembling, surrounded by my Halloween decorations.
“Please, don’t turn us in to the police!” the boy cried, his voice shaking. “My sister loves Halloween, but we don’t have any money. I didn’t want to steal, I swear! You just had the best decorations,” he said, his eyes wide with fear.
I stood there, staring at them. Two small kids in this awful, broken house. They looked so scared, and to be honest, I was scared too. The decorations didn’t matter anymore.
“Why are you here? Where are your parents?” I asked.
“We don’t have any,” the boy replied. “We ran away from our foster parents because they weren’t treating us right.”
I knelt down to their level, trying to understand. “What are your names?”
“I’m David, and this is my sister, Nicole,” he said, putting his arm around the little girl.
“My name is Maeve,” I told them, trying to sound reassuring. “You can’t stay here. It’s too cold. Come with me.”
David looked up at me, fear in his eyes. “Are you going to call the police?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m going to take you home,” I said, reaching out my hands to them both.
David and Nicole had been staying with me for several days now, and during that time, I had learned more about them through social services. It broke my heart to hear that their foster parents hadn’t even reported them missing.
How could anyone just forget about two children? I knew right then that there was no way they could go back. So, I filed the paperwork for temporary custody.
It was a bit of a process, but the social worker said the kids could stay with me even while we waited for everything to go through. That was a relief—I wasn’t ready to let them go.
The kids were amazing. At first, Nicole was so quiet, barely saying a word. She would just sit by herself, hugging her little stuffed bunny. But as the days went by, I saw her slowly start to relax.
She began to smile, laugh, and even talk a little. David, too, seemed happier. He helped me around the house, always asking if there was anything he could do.
Having them there made the house feel different—warmer, more alive. I hadn’t realized how empty it had felt before. It was as if David and Nicole had always been a part of my life.
In the evenings, I would read them bedtime stories. Every time, I felt tears welling up. I never thought my dream of having children would come true in such an unexpected way. But here we were, and it felt right.
On Halloween night, there was a knock at the door. Expecting trick-or-treaters, I smiled as I opened it, but instead of kids in costumes, I saw two police officers standing there.
“Can I help you, officers?” I asked, feeling my stomach drop a little.
“Your neighbor reported some strange screaming coming from your house,” one of the officers said. I followed his gaze across the street, where Catherine stood, arms crossed and a smug grin on her face. Of course, it was her.
Just then, a loud shout echoed from inside my house. I smiled sheepishly. “Oh, that. I’m showing the kids a scary movie for Halloween. You know, something fun for the night,” I explained, stepping aside. “Would you like to come in and check?”
The officers nodded and followed me inside. As we walked into the living room, one of them asked, “Are these your children?”
“Yes,” I said, the word slipping out naturally. “These are my children.”
It was the first time I had said it, but I realized it was true. In such a short time, they had become my family. I couldn’t imagine my life without them now.
The officers glanced at David and Nicole, who were sitting on the couch, eyes wide as they watched the scary movie. Every so often, they would pull the blanket over their heads, then peek out again.
The officers smiled, clearly seeing there was nothing wrong. “Have a good evening, ma’am,” they said, heading out the door.
As they walked out, I stepped onto the porch and waved at Catherine, who was still watching from across the street.
She looked furious, her face red with frustration. With a loud huff, she stomped her foot and marched back inside. I couldn’t help but smile to myself.
The next morning, I did what I had been thinking about for days—I applied to adopt David and Nicole. From that point on, I never spent another holiday alone. Every day was filled with laughter, love, and the warmth of family. I finally had what I had always dreamed of: I could call myself “Mom.”
The fascinating and tragic story of Mary Ann Bevan
The story of Mary Ann Bevan, who was considered ‘The ugliest woman in the world,’ starts in the 19th century, a dark period of the American culture when ‘freak shows,’ traveling circuses showing people with certain deformities and disabilities, were at the peak of their popularity.
Today, it is highly unacceptable to treat people with disabilities with disrespect, but back in the day, no one believed it was morally wrong to dub them freaks.
Mary Ann Bevan was born on December 20, 1874, in Plaistow, East London, United Kingdom. She grew up to become a nurse and was respected by the society. On top of that, she was a very attractive woman who was offered many possibilities.
In 1902, Mary met the love of her life, a man named Thomas Bevan. The two married and welcomed four children together, but their happiness didn’t last long. After 14 years, Thomas passed away, leaving Mary heartbroken.
Her life became difficult as she was left to take care and provide for her children all by herself.
Unfortunately, around the time she turned 32, Mary started experiencing strange symptoms. Her face started changing gradually and she didn’t know what was happening or what caused that change which impacted her both psychologically and financially. Mary’s bones grew big, and her face became deformed. As a result, she lost her job and was unable to provide for her children any longer.
Back in the day, no one could diagnose her, but this poor woman suffered from acromegaly, a hormonal disorder that develops when the pituitary gland produces too much growth hormone during adulthood, when a change in height doesn’t occur. Instead, the increase in bone size is limited to the bones of the hands, feet and face.
Today, a lot more is knows about this condition and there are ways to keep it under control, which wasn’t the case during the time Mary lived.
Crushed, heartbroken, and poor, this woman saw an ad one day which read, “Wanted: Ugliest woman. Nothing repulsive, maimed or disfigured. Good pay guaranteed, and long engagement for successful applicant. Send recent photograph.”
No matter how awful she felt about this ‘job,’ she saw no way out of her situation. She simply needed to do anything in order to feed her children. Above all, she was a mother.
Mary answered the ad and she was soon contacted by the circus’ agent, a man named Claude Bartram, who later shared Mary’s story.
“She was not repulsive at all. She had the kind of face one usually finds in a giant, a powerful, masculine jaw, prominent cheek-bones, nose and forehead, but she was unblemished, healthy and strong. She told me she did not like the idea of placing herself on exhibition, she was shy and did not want to be separated from her children,” Bartram said, according to Daily Star.
“I told her she would earn £10 per week for a year, travelling expenses and all the money from the sale of picture postcards of herself, so she could provide for the education of her children.”
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In no time, magazines were filled with Mary Ann’s photos and everyone recognized her as ‘the ugliest woman on Earth.’
Her popularity brought her to the Dreamland Circus in Coney Island, New York, one of the most famous circuses there were. Mary Ann became an attraction, but then a doctor named Harvey Cushing, a leading neurosurgeon, spotted her and knew there was more behind ger huge face that he wanted to explore thoroughly.
“This unfortunate woman who sits in the sideshow of Ringling Brothers ‘between Fat Lady and Armless Wonder’ and ‘affects white lace hats, woollen mittens and high laced shoes’ has a story which is far from mirth-provoking.
“She, previously a vigorous and good-looking young woman, has become the victim of a disease known as acromegaly,” he wrote in a letter to Time magazine.
Mary Ann spent her life working at the circus and she was reported to have earned a small fortune which enabled her to send her children back to England where they attended boarding schools.
She endured a lot, but she did it all for her children.
Mary Ann died at the age of 59 of natural causes. Her final wish was to be buried in her homeland, England, and her children fulfilled her wish. She is resting at the Ladywell and Brockley Cemetery in South London.
This woman’s sad, yet fascinating life story speaks of the mother’s love for her children more than anything else.
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