My Neighbor Doused My Car With Water In Freezing Weather – He Regretted It That Same Night

When my wealthy neighbor deemed my cherished old sedan an “eyesore,” he took matters into his own hands and froze my car solid overnight. But that same night, karma taught him a harsh lesson.

I never thought I’d end up in a neighborhood where every driveway sports at least one shiny German import and landscapers show up like clockwork every Thursday morning.

Houses in a nice neighborhood | Source: Midjourney

Houses in a nice neighborhood | Source: Midjourney

But here I was, thanks to my company’s corporate housing program, feeling like the poster child for imposter syndrome with my dad’s beat-up 1989 sedan.

That car was everything to me. Every ding and scratch told a story, like the small dent in the rear bumper from when Dad taught me to parallel park, or the tiny crack in the dashboard where he used to tap his fingers along to Johnny Cash.

After Dad passed, keeping that car running became my way of keeping his memory alive.

An old sedan | Source: Pexels

An old sedan | Source: Pexels

I was out there one crisp fall morning, giving the old girl her weekly wash, when I heard the crunch of expensive shoes on fallen leaves.

“Excuse me, miss” The voice dripped with the kind of entitled condescension you can only perfect through years of country club memberships.

I turned around, soap suds dripping from my hands, to find my neighbor Tom, looking like he’d just stepped out of a catalog for overpriced golf wear. His perfectly styled hair didn’t move an inch in the morning breeze.

A man with a stern expression | Source: Midjourney

A man with a stern expression | Source: Midjourney

“You can call me Lila.” I kept scrubbing at a particularly stubborn bird dropping.

“Right.” His jaw tightened slightly. “Look, I need to talk to you about this…” He gestured at my car with obvious distaste, his signet ring catching the morning light. “This vehicle situation.”

I straightened up, crossing my arms. “Vehicle situation?”

“It’s an eyesore.” He didn’t even try to soften the blow.

A man pointing his finger | Source: Midjourney

A man pointing his finger | Source: Midjourney

“People move to this neighborhood for a certain… aesthetic and quality of life. And your car, well, it’s destroying property values. Not to mention the environmental impact — do you have any idea what kind of pollutants that ancient engine is spewing? My children play outside!”

I couldn’t help but laugh. The sound echoed off the perfectly maintained facades of our matching houses.

“Your kids play outside? Since when? The only time I see them is when they’re being shuttled between your house and your massive SUV. Which, by the way, probably burns more fuel in a week than my car does in a month.”

A woman talking to someone | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to someone | Source: Midjourney

His face reddened, the color creeping up from his starched collar. “That’s not the point. The point is that you need to get rid of this junk heap. It doesn’t belong here, and frankly—” he lowered his voice conspiratorially, “—neither do you.”

“Oh, really?” I cocked my head, feeling my father’s stubborn streak rising in me. The same stubbornness that had helped him build his auto repair shop from nothing. “Are you offering to buy me a new car?”

“Of course not, but if you don’t get rid of it within a week,” he said, jaw clenched, “I’ll make sure you have to replace it. This isn’t the kind of neighborhood where we tolerate… diminishing standards.”

An angry man | Source: Midjourney

An angry man | Source: Midjourney

I waved my soapy sponge at him, sending a spray of bubbles his way. He jumped back like I’d thrown acid. “Was that a threat, Tom? Because it sounded an awful lot like a threat.”

He turned on his heel and stalked away, leaving me wondering what kind of person actually talks like that in real life.

I finished washing my old car and went inside. I didn’t think much about the conversation until a week later when I found out exactly what kind of person Tom was.

A surprised woman | Source: Midjourney

A surprised woman | Source: Midjourney

The morning air bit at my face as I stepped outside, travel mug of coffee in hand, ready for work. The sunrise was painting the sky in shades of pink and gold, but I stopped dead in my tracks, nearly dropping my coffee.

My car was completely encased in ice; thick, clear ice that looked nothing like natural frost.

It was as if someone had spent hours spraying it with a hose in the freezing night air.

A car covered in ice | Source: Midjourney

A car covered in ice | Source: Midjourney

The morning light refracted through the frozen shell, creating tiny rainbows that would have been beautiful if they weren’t so infuriating.

“Careful,” came Tom’s voice from his porch next door. He was lounging in an Adirondack chair, sipping his morning coffee with a smile that made me want to throw something. His breath made little clouds in the cold air. “Looks like it’s raining every night! Hope you’ve got a good scraper.”

I stormed over to his porch, my boots leaving angry prints on his perfect lawn. “Are you serious right now? This is how you handle things? What are you, twelve?”

A woman gesturing to her frozen car | Source: Midjourney

A woman gesturing to her frozen car | Source: Midjourney

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” His smug smile never wavered. “Mother Nature can be so unpredictable. Especially in this neighborhood.”

“Mother Nature doesn’t target single cars, Tom.” My hands were shaking with anger. “This is harassment. And pretty childish harassment at that.”

“Prove it.” He took another sip of coffee, the steam curling around his face like a villain’s smokescreen. “Or better yet, take the hint and get rid of that heap, or move. I’m sure there’s a nice apartment complex somewhere that would be more… suitable for your situation.”

A smirking man | Source: Midjourney

A smirking man | Source: Midjourney

I spent the next three hours chipping away at the ice, my hands going numb despite my gloves. The whole time, I plotted elaborate revenge scenarios, each more ridiculous than the last.

But Dad’s voice echoed in my memory: “The best revenge is living well, kiddo. And keeping your hands clean means you never have to look over your shoulder.”

That night, a strange whooshing sound jolted me awake. At first, I thought it was just the wind, but there was something different about it, something almost musical… like water.

A woman in bed | Source: Pexels

A woman in bed | Source: Pexels

I rushed to my window, half-expecting to catch Tom creating another ice sculpture out of my car. Instead, I burst out laughing.

A fire hydrant at the edge of Tom’s property had exploded, sending a powerful jet of water directly at his house. In the freezing night air, the water was turning to ice on contact, slowly encasing his perfect home and his precious German SUV in a thick crystal shell.

The streetlights caught each frozen droplet, turning his property into a bizarre winter wonderland.

Water spraying from a damaged fire hydrant | Source: Midjourney

Water spraying from a damaged fire hydrant | Source: Midjourney

By morning, half the neighborhood had gathered to gawk at the spectacle. Some were taking photos with their phones, others whispering behind their hands.

Tom stood in his driveway, attacking the ice with a tiny garden shovel, looking absolutely miserable in his designer winter coat. His perfectly styled hair was finally out of place, plastered to his forehead with sweat despite the cold.

I watched him struggle for a few minutes before sighing heavily. Dad would’ve known what to do.

A woman with a resigned look on her face | Source: Midjourney

A woman with a resigned look on her face | Source: Midjourney

He always said that kindness costs nothing but means everything. I grabbed my heavy-duty ice scraper and walked over.

“Want some help?” I asked, trying not to sound too amused. “I’ve got some experience with this sort of thing.”

Tom looked up, surprised and suspicious. His face was red from exertion, his breath coming in short puffs. “Why would you help me? After everything?”

I shrugged and started scraping. “Guess I’m just a better neighbor than you.”

A woman holding an ice scraper | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding an ice scraper | Source: Midjourney

We worked in silence for hours, gradually freeing his car and clearing a path to his front door. By the time we finished, the sun was setting, and we were both exhausted.

The next morning, there was a knock at my door. Tom stood there, shifting his weight from foot to foot, making his expensive shoes creak.

“I owe you an apology,” he said. “I was a jerk. You didn’t have to help me yesterday, but you did.” He thrust an envelope at me. “This is to thank you… and to make amends.”

A woman holding an envelope | Source: Pexels

A woman holding an envelope | Source: Pexels

Inside was $5,000 in hundred-dollar bills. I stared at it, then at him, the paper crisp between my fingers.

“It’s for your car,” he explained quickly. “Get it fixed up — or get a new one if you’d prefer. Consider it a peace offering. And… I’m sorry about what I said. About you not belonging here.”

I looked at the money, then at my dad’s old sedan sitting in the driveway.

“Thanks, Tom,” I said, tucking the envelope into my pocket. “I think I know exactly what I’m going to do with this.”

A woman with her hand in her pocket | Source: Midjourney

A woman with her hand in her pocket | Source: Midjourney

A week later, my old sedan was sporting a fresh coat of paint, new tires, and a completely rebuilt engine. It stood out even more now as a perfectly restored classic in a sea of modern luxury vehicles.

Every time I caught Tom looking at it, I made sure to rev the engine extra loud. Sometimes he’d even give me a grudging nod of appreciation.

Sometimes the best revenge isn’t revenge at all.

A woman driving a classic car | Source: Pexels

A woman driving a classic car | Source: Pexels

Dad always said that class isn’t about what you own — it’s about how you treat people, even the ones who don’t deserve it.

Here’s another story: When sleep-deprived mom Genevieve discovers her car covered in eggs, she thinks it’s a prank — until her smug neighbor Brad admits he did it because her car was ruining the view of his elaborate Halloween display. Furious but too exhausted to argue, Genevieve vows to teach him a lesson. 

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.

Bus Driver Insults Breastfeeding Mom Unaware Her Husband Would Get in at Next Stop – Story of the Day

A bus driver mocks a breastfeeding mom on his bus and is surprised to see her being greeted by his son at the next stop. Moreover, the son is unexpectedly in a wheelchair.

Keith was behind the wheel, ferrying passengers across the city, when a young lady with a baby boarded the bus. Keith’s lips curled into a sly smirk.

Babies were too unpredictable and could start bawling at any moment. So nothing was worse to Keith than putting up with the baby’s loud cries during rush hour.

As the lady occupied a vacant seat with her toddler, Keith grumbled. “That should stop the child from whining,” he frowned…

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

When a stop light arrived, and Keith turned around to check how many people were aboard, he saw the lady breastfeeding her baby. His anger flared, and his cheeks turned crimson red. “Hey, Lady! You can’t do that here!” he yelled.

“Why, of course, I can! I’m nursing my baby,” the mother responded.

Keith looked around at the others and was unsettled. The traffic light turned green, and he started driving, expressing his disapproval of the woman feeding her child.

“Disgusting! Kids think they’re entitled to everything and just display their breasts in front of complete strangers,” Keith mumbled loudly.

Keith’s murmurs intensified as the woman adjusted to cover up her chest. “Youngsters lack respect for others. Since when did breastfeeding in public become the norm?”

The lady overheard everything, and Keith’s discomfort persisted, echoing through the bus.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

A few men near Keith joined in taking a dig at the woman. Keith chuckled, and the mocking continued. “Like I said, no decency! Where’s her husband? Why didn’t anyone in her life teach her some self-respect?” he added.

The woman finished feeding her child and prepared to leave. As the bus doors opened, Keith’s gaze shifted to a man in a wheelchair waiting for her, and his jaw dropped.

“DANIEL?” he gasped, recognizing his son, who was now in a wheelchair. It was only the second time he’d ever seen him. Daniel was perfectly alright seven years ago, and Keith couldn’t understand what had happened to him.

His anxiety surged even more when he realized the woman he had insulted for the last half hour was his daughter-in-law. And the baby…his grandson. Keith’s heart cracked again.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Are you going to drive, old man?” a youngster in the back yelled, snapping Keith out of his reverie.

Keith turned around, trying his best to get his job done. But it wasn’t easy, especially when the vision of his life 22 years ago came flashing back into his mind…

“Honey, I’m home,” Keith gleefully cried out to his girlfriend, Sarah. “Ummm! That tastes delicious!” he exclaimed, gobbling a spoonful of pasta.

“I can’t do it, Keith,” she rose. “I want to have this baby.”

“I thought we agreed. You know we’re not ready for a baby yet,” he sighed.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

“I’m already 15 weeks along,” Sarah brushed her belly. “I want this baby. I love him. I…I’m sorry…I can’t.”

Keith was worried now. He tried to explain to Sarah that their one-bedroom flat in the secluded part of town and their minimum wage salaries wouldn’t be enough to raise a baby. But she stood her ground.

“Fine!” Keith eventually agreed. “We’ll figure out something.”

Deep inside, he was haunted by what to do all evening. And that’s when he remembered his best friend, Victor, and left for the pub to meet him.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Keith! Where the hell have you been, man?” Victor exclaimed as soon as Keith walked through the door of their favorite bar. They often hung out there, but Keith had refrained from nights out after moving in with Sarah.

“And how’s your girl?” Victor said, downing a drink.

“She’s good, man,” Keith nodded, licking his dry lips. “Is there any job for me…with you? Look, man, I’m ready to do anything. Please…talk to your boss Mr. Abraham. I’m good with cars…”

Keith knew the stakes were high but took up a job pretty soon. Hotwiring a car in less than a minute and stealing parts was a cakewalk for Keith, and soon, money started rolling in.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Keith and Sarah eventually moved to a new area only a month after he started his new job. They were doing exceptionally well, and one night, when he arrived home, he found Sarah crying on the couch.

“The cops were here, Keith. They asked terrifying questions about you and Victor…and some Mr. Abraham… Why are the cops after you?” she asked.

A lump rose in Keith’s throat. “It’s better if you don’t know,” he said as Sarah’s worst fears were confirmed.

“Jesus! Are you in a gang, Keith? Wha—what if you get arrested? What’s gonna happen to me and our baby if you go down?” She cried.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Nothing’s gonna happen,” Keith pressed Sarah’s shoulders. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Really, Keith? You think the cops will spare you?”

Keith’s anger boiled over. “For God’s sake, Sarah! Can’t you see why I’m doing this? I had to bring more money…I’m doing all this for us!”

“Please, stop it,” Sarah cried her heart out, begging Keith to quit his illegal gig and return to the normal, simple life they once lived.

“We need MONEY to live!” he yelled.

“You can make that MONEY by doing something else…NOT THIS!” Sarah shot back as she cried, squinting her eyes. “The baby kicked…Ow!”

Keith calmed down as he cupped her face and looked into her eyes. “Look, babe, I have this huge gig coming up. It could set us up for life. I can’t give up in the middle. I want to give our son everything,” he said.

Sarah’s face contorted. “If you don’t quit this job, you’ll never be able to get out of it. The cops are after you…do you even realize that?”

“Sarah, this is my chance. I don’t want to return to some stupid low-wage job, okay? This is beyond my control. I used to feel low. But now, I have everything they said I could never have.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Sarah’s gaze lowered as she clutched her belly tight. “I don’t think this is gonna work out, Keith. You’re not the man I loved,” she sobbed.

“Oh, c’mon! How convenient, Sarah,” Keith lashed out at her expletively. “You enjoyed the money I made…What’s wrong now? Like it or not, I’m not quitting,” he declared, storming out of the room.

It was early morning when Keith returned home from another successful score. “Honey, look…I’m sorry. Things got a bit intense last night…Sarah?” He called out to her over and over.

But still no answer. So Keith hurried to their bedroom, wondering if she was sick or still sleeping, only to find it empty.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Keith grew anxious as he rang Sarah’s number. But all his calls landed in voicemail. He rummaged through the closet and noticed some of her clothes were gone. All the onesies were missing from the nursery. “Sarah?” Keith panicked and ran around the house, but she was nowhere to be found.

They didn’t have many friends, so Keith thought Victor or the rest of his gang could help find her. Just as Keith frantically pressed the call button on Victor’s number, a loud knock on the front door jolted him.

“Police! Open the door, Mr. Griffith. We know you’re in there,” a cop yelled and banged on the door. “We have an arrest warrant.”

“Argh!” Keith held his head, knowing there was no escape now.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Keith was arrested and sentenced to 20 years. However, he was released on parole after 15 years owing to good conduct. He didn’t go back to Victor or Mr. Abraham, and all he wanted was to find Sarah and their baby.

Keith tracked down their address and eagerly raced to a suburban area several miles west of their old neighborhood. The beautiful houses and picturesque landscapes pleased his eyes. This was the kind of place he wanted to live with Sarah and their son.

Finally, Keith made it closer to Sarah’s house, and just as he was about to enter the gate, an SUV drove past him. A well-dressed man got down as Keith stood puzzled. “Did I get the address wrong? But the mailbox shows the same number…”

“DAD!” a boy’s voice startled him. Keith looked up, his heart pounding in his chest, and a smile formed on his face.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Keith’s heart shattered to a million pieces when he saw a teen boy bolting from the front door toward the stranger who had just gotten down from the SUV. And Sarah emerged from the doorway. “Guys, dinner is ready! Hurry!” she chuckled.

“Dad, let’s go,” the boy chirped. “Mom made spaghetti!”

“You’re right, Daniel! Let’s hurry!” Keith watched as the man wrapped his hand around the boy’s shoulder, and they walked inside the house. It could mean only one thing—he was the boy’s stepfather who had taken Keith’s rightful place in Sarah’s and their son’s lives.

Heartbroken, Keith decided to turn around and leave. But he wanted to see how happy they were together. He secretly peeked through the window and saw the teen and his stepdad cheering for a baseball game on TV. Sarah was sitting beside them and looked as beautiful as ever.

As the street lights turned on, Keith gathered his bits and pieces and walked away.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

A blaring horn in the distance snapped Keith to reality as tears rolled down his cheeks. He finished his last route for the night, and the thought of seeing Daniel in a wheelchair broke his heart again. “What happened to my boy? He was fine when I saw him seven years ago…” Keith wondered.

A few days later, he drove to the same address he last saw Sarah and Daniel to find out. He pulled over outside a neighboring house and waited nervously until a knock on his side window startled him.

“Hey, who are you? Why’s your car parked outside my compound? If you don’t leave, I’ll call the cops,” an older lady barked at him.

Keith stepped down from his car with a start. “No, please, ma’am. I just wanted to go there…”

“Go where?” she raised her hands and growled.

“Over there…to that house. I want to meet Sarah and Daniel. I haven’t seen her in years,” Keith clarified.

“Oh, dear,” the older lady’s voice softened. “Don’t you know what happened?”

“Yeah?” Keith’s forehead wrinkled with unease.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Sarah and her husband died last year,” the older woman revealed. “Their son Daniel lives with his wife and baby there.”

“WHAT? NO!” Keith’s eyes bulged with shock.

“Car accident. Daniel luckily survived because he was in the backseat. But he can’t walk,” the lady added. “It’s so sad. I saw that boy grow up. They were such a lovely family. And his baby…he won’t ever see his grandparents.”

Keith thanked the woman and regretfully walked past her, heading straight to the front door. He knew it was time to step up and face his son, no matter what. Keith adjusted his voice and sighed deeply before knocking on the door. It creaked open moments later, and Daniel rolled his wheelchair closer.

“Yes?” He looked up at Keith.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

A spoiled rich teen thought he could get away with insulting a flight attendant. However, his dad, who was watching everything from behind, decides to teach his arrogant kid an unforgettable lesson.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers 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.

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*