THREATENING MESSAGES BEGAN APPEARING AT MY NEW APARTMENT DOOR — PROMPTING ME TO INSTALL A CONCEALED CAMERA. I had recently relocated to my dream apartment, and it was indeed perfect — embodying everything I desired. Then, without warning, I began receiving eerie messages on my door, containing phrases such as, “Vacate or face the consequences.” Initially, I dismissed it as a foolish joke, but the messages persisted and escalated in their menace. To further amplify the terror, I discovered dead pigeons on my balcony. Twice within a single week! I was officially terrified and utterly clueless as to the perpetrator. Thus, I installed concealed cameras around my residence, intending to identify the offender. Following a week of sleepless nights and unrelenting anxiety, I finally observed a figure approaching my door. My heart raced as I leaned forward to discern their identity. As the figure turned slightly, I felt the blood run cold. It was an individual I would never have suspected. ⬇️It was Mrs. Higgins from across the hall. The sweet, elderly woman who had baked me a welcome pie on my first day. My mind reeled. Mrs. Higgins? But why? I replayed the footage, watching her shuffle to my door, a crumpled piece of paper in her hand, and then moments later, a small, dark shape that I now realized was a pigeon, clutched in a plastic bag. The pieces started to click into place, forming a bizarre and unsettling picture.
For days, I wrestled with what to do. Confronting Mrs. Higgins felt impossible. She seemed so frail and harmless. But the messages and the dead birds were undeniably real. Finally, I decided I couldn’t live in fear anymore. Taking a deep breath, I printed screenshots from the camera – clear images of Mrs. Higgins at my door.
The next morning, I knocked on her door. She opened it, her usual warm smile faltering slightly as she saw my face. “Oh, hello dear,” she said, her voice a little shaky. I held out the photos. Her smile vanished completely, replaced by a look of shame and guilt.
“Mrs. Higgins,” I began, my voice trembling slightly, “Can you explain this?” She invited me in, her small apartment suddenly feeling much smaller and more oppressive than mine. She sat me down and, with tears welling in her eyes, confessed everything.
It turned out Mrs. Higgins had lived in the building for decades and had always dreamed of having my apartment. She had applied for it when the previous tenant moved out, but she was told it was too expensive for her income bracket. Seeing me, a young newcomer, move in, filled her with bitterness and resentment. The messages and the pigeons were her misguided attempts to scare me away, to reclaim what she felt should have been hers.
She was deeply apologetic, explaining that she had been acting out of desperation and loneliness. Seeing my life seemingly perfect had triggered something in her. She hadn’t meant to cause real harm, just to frighten me a little.
While I was still shaken and couldn’t fully understand her actions, I saw genuine remorse in her eyes. I explained to her how terrified I had been and how her actions had impacted me. She listened, nodding sadly.
In the end, I didn’t call the police or building management. Instead, I suggested she seek help to deal with her feelings of resentment and loneliness. She agreed. We even talked about having tea together sometimes, and I offered to help her with groceries if she needed it.
The messages stopped. The dead pigeons disappeared. Life in my dream apartment slowly returned to normal, though I now saw Mrs. Higgins not as the sweet old lady, but as a complex person capable of both kindness and, surprisingly, unsettling actions. It was a strange and unsettling experience, but in a way, it also taught me a valuable lesson about judging people and the hidden struggles they might be facing beneath the surface.