When I first saw the cruel message scribbled on my recovering grandpa’s dusty car, I was beyond furious. But finding out who was responsible was just the beginning. What I did next ensured that this entitled neighbor would never forget the lesson she was about to learn.
It all started two months ago when I was at work, and my phone rang. It was Mom. Her voice was shaky, almost breaking, as she told me that Grandpa had been rushed to the hospital after suffering a heart attack. My heart dropped. Grandpa Alvin isn’t just my grandpa—he’s my rock, my confidant, my favorite person in the world. The thought of losing him was unbearable.
I don’t even remember the drive to pick up Mom or the frantic rush to the hospital. Those 45 minutes on the road felt like an eternity, filled with anxiety and fear as Mom quietly cried beside me. When we finally arrived, the doctor reassured us that Grandpa had pulled through the surgery, but he would need plenty of rest, a strict diet, and absolutely no stress.
Grandpa was discharged a few days later, but since he lived in another town, we couldn’t be there daily to look after him. We hired a full-time nurse who took care of him, cooked for him, and ensured he was on the road to recovery. For two months, he didn’t leave his apartment, focusing on getting better.
Last week, I realized it had been too long since I’d seen him. Over breakfast, I told Mom that I planned to visit him that weekend, and she eagerly agreed to join me. I was excited to see Grandpa, imagining his face lighting up when he saw us.
On Saturday, I bought a bouquet of his favorite sunflowers and drove with Mom to his place. As we pulled into the parking lot, I noticed Grandpa’s old car covered in a thick layer of dust. It was clear he hadn’t driven it since his illness. But as we got closer, I saw something that made my blood boil—a nasty message scrawled across the rear windscreen: “YOU ARE A DIRTY PIG! CLEAN UP YOUR CAR OR GET OUT OF THE COMMUNITY. SHAME! SHAME! SHAME!”
I was livid. Who could be so heartless as to write something like that on an old man’s car? Especially when he’d been too sick to even leave his apartment. Mom was equally shocked, but she gently reminded me not to let Grandpa see me upset. We quickly headed up to his apartment, and the joy on his face when he opened the door momentarily pushed the cruel message from my mind.
We chatted for a while, but I couldn’t stop thinking about that hateful message. Eventually, I excused myself, telling Mom I needed to take care of something, and headed straight to the security office.
The guard was reluctant to show me the security footage at first, but when I explained the situation, he agreed to help. As we reviewed the footage, I spotted an older woman, with a snooty air about her, leisurely writing that awful message on Grandpa’s car. The guard identified her as Briana from 4C, someone who was well-known in the building for causing trouble.
Apparently, Briana had been giving Grandpa a hard time for months—complaining about every little thing, from the way his newspaper was left out to the color of his potted plants. She even tried to get him fined for minor infractions. It was clear that she had no intention of showing him any kindness.
I knew I had to do something, so I came up with a plan. The next day, I printed a screenshot of the security footage showing Briana in the act and made a bold sign that read: “SHAME! SHAME! SHAME! Lady from Apt 4C is abusing elderly neighbors.” I taped it in the elevator, where everyone in the building would see it.
Within a day, Briana became the talk of the complex, and not in a good way. People started avoiding her, and she could no longer harass Grandpa or anyone else without facing the community’s judgment.
When I visited Grandpa again a few days later, he greeted me with a big hug and mentioned the drama with Briana. He didn’t know I was behind it, and I played along, acting surprised. But inside, I felt a deep sense of satisfaction. Sometimes, you have to fight fire with fire. In situations like this, being kind isn’t enough when someone like Briana refuses to respect others.
What would you have done in my place?
