I thought Austin was the perfect man, a widower raising his daughter, grounded by tragedy. But everything unraveled the day his daughter whispered a chilling secret: her mother wasn’t dead.
Meeting Austin felt like finding a lighthouse in a storm. We met at a mutual friend’s housewarming party, where he stood by the fireplace, cradling a drink with practiced ease.
A man standing by a fireplace | Source: Midjourney
His eyes held a softness that I hadn’t seen in a long time; a quiet resilience beneath a tragedy.
“It’s been two years since my wife passed,” he told me later, his voice low and even. “Car accident. It’s just me and my daughter now.”
Austin’s vulnerability drew me in. He was attentive in ways that felt like a balm to my guarded heart. He was always texting to check if I’d made it home safely and showing up with dinner on nights he knew I’d had a long day.
A man holding a takeout bag | Source: Midjourney
It was sweet, even if, at times, it bordered on clingy. When he’d ask if I could “just send a quick text” when I was out with friends, I chalked it up to someone who’d been through loss and was just cautious about losing someone else.
As the weeks turned into months, his kindness and steady demeanor convinced me I’d found something real.
He introduced me to his daughter, Willow, a quiet 14-year-old who mostly lived with her grandmother.
A teen girl | Source: Midjourney
She spent Sundays with Austin, and while she was always polite, there was a distance to her. She’d perch awkwardly on the edge of the couch during visits, her legs tucked under her like she wasn’t planning to stay long.
Six months in, I thought I knew him. I really did.
On Saturday, we celebrated Austin’s birthday. It was a small gathering, just a few close friends and Willow, who stayed overnight so she could spend Sunday with her dad.
Birthday decorations and cake | Source: Pexels
The next morning, as I stood in the kitchen pouring my second coffee, I heard a whisper from the living room. The sound was faint, but it caught my attention.
“Sorry, Mom. You know yesterday was his birthday. I couldn’t come. I’ll call you later.”
I froze, the coffee pot still tilted mid-pour. Mom?
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
“Willow?” I called, trying to keep my voice steady as I walked into the living room. She was still clutching her phone, cheeks flushed.
She looked up, startled. “Yeah?”
“Did you just say ‘Mom’?”
Her eyes darted toward the hallway, then back to me.
A teen girl glancing nervously to one side | Source: Midjourney
“Oh,” she laughed, too high and too loud. “It’s just a friend. We call her ‘Mom’ as a joke.”
The explanation didn’t sit right, and Willow must’ve seen the doubt on my face. Before I could press further, she grabbed my hand, her grip surprisingly firm for such a slight frame.
“Not here,” she hissed. “Let’s talk in the basement.”
The air in the basement was cool and damp, and Willow’s eyes darted toward the closed door as if it might betray her.
A closed door | Source: Pexels
“You can’t tell Dad what I’m about to tell you,” she said, her voice trembling. “Promise me.”
“I… okay,” I said, though my heart was pounding. “What’s going on?”
“She’s not dead,” Willow whispered, each word a fragile shard. “My mom. She’s alive.”
I felt the world shift beneath me. “What? How… why would he think she’s dead?”
Willow looked down, her hands twisting the hem of her sweatshirt. “Because she wanted him to.”
A teen girl speaking to someone in a basement | Source: Midjourney
“She left to escape him and his controlling behavior,” she added. “But he wouldn’t let her move on. He stalked her and threatened her. When the crash happened, she saw her chance.”
“Her chance?” My voice cracked.
“To disappear.” Willow swallowed hard. “It happened on a country road and the police assumed wild animals got her when they couldn’t find a body. Everyone believed it. She moved to another city. She thought it was the only way to be free.”
A teen girl in a basement | Source: Midjourney
Her words came in gasps now. “I see her on Saturdays. She’s safe, but if Dad found out, he’d ruin her life all over again.”
Willow’s revelation sent my mind reeling. The ground I thought I’d been standing on felt suddenly unstable, like I’d been balancing on thin ice without realizing it.
Her words echoed in my head: “If Dad found out, he’d ruin her life all over again.” The Austin I thought I knew (a kind, steady man who loved deeply) didn’t match the Austin she described.
A disturbed woman | Source: Midjourney
But the pieces she’d handed me started to slot into place. I couldn’t ignore the red flags any longer.
I began replaying moments I’d dismissed. The constant texts checking in (“Just wanted to make sure you’re okay”) had felt sweet at first, a sign he cared. But now I remembered the unease I’d felt when they came in rapid succession if I didn’t respond fast enough.
Then there was his subtle needling when I made plans without him: “Why didn’t you tell me you were going out with your friends?” or “I guess I just assumed we’d spend the evening together.”
A woman lost in thought | Source: Midjourney
At the time, I’d written it off as insecurity, nothing malicious. But now, it felt like a web was being spun tighter and tighter around me.
I decided I needed to test him. If Willow was right, Austin’s response to the smallest assertion of independence would tell me everything.
“I need some space,” I told him one evening, my voice steadier than I felt. My pulse hammered in my ears as I forced myself to meet his gaze. “Just to think about where we’re going.”
A woman speaking to someone | Source: Midjourney
The air between us shifted, his expression freezing for the briefest moment before he forced a smile. It was a practiced smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Of course,” he said, his tone gentle but strained. “Take all the time you need. Just don’t forget how much I care about you.”
I nodded, unsure what else to say. For a moment, I let myself believe he’d taken it well.
A concerned woman | Source: Midjourney
His texts began the next morning, one after another, faster than I could respond.
“Hey, just checking in.”
“I hope everything’s okay.”
“I miss you. Can we talk soon?”
By the time I arrived at work, my phone was buzzing incessantly. By lunchtime, he was standing outside the building with a bouquet in his hand.
A man holding a bouquet | Source: Midjourney
His smile stretched too wide as he greeted me, his presence jarring against the normalcy of my workday.
“I just wanted to see you,” he said, handing me the flowers. His eyes scanned my face like he was searching for something, reassurance, maybe. Or a sign that I’d give in.
I tried to deflect, thanking him but keeping my distance. “I’m really busy today, Austin. We’ll talk later.”
A woman waving while walking away | Source: Midjourney
He nodded, but his smile faltered as I turned and walked away. By the time I reached the elevator, my hands were shaking.
That evening, as I approached my apartment, I spotted him standing by the entrance. He didn’t have flowers this time, just his presence, looming and uninvited.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he said, his voice low, almost pleading. But his eyes… there was something darker there now, something I couldn’t ignore.
A man with an unsettling smile | Source: Midjourney
My instincts screamed at me to run, but I forced myself to stay calm.
“Austin, this isn’t okay,” I said, my voice trembling despite my effort to sound firm. “You need to go.”
He hesitated, then gave me that tight, brittle smile again. “I just wanted to talk.”
Once he left, I bolted the door and called my friend, Mark.
A woman making a phone call | Source: Midjourney
Mark was a cop so if anyone could help me out, it was him. My hands were shaking so badly I nearly dropped the phone.
When he answered, the words spilled out in a torrent, my voice cracking under the weight of my fear.
Mark listened patiently, his tone steady when he spoke. “You did the right thing calling me,” he said. “If he steps out of line again, we’ll deal with him.”
A woman speaking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
The next day, I spotted Austin again as I left work. My heart sank, but this time, Mark was ready. He stepped out of his squad car with an authority that seemed to fill the space around him.
“Austin,” Mark said, his voice calm but steely. “This stops now. If you keep this up, there will be legal consequences. Leave her alone.”
For a moment, Austin just stared at him, his jaw tight and his fists clenching at his sides. Then his mask slipped.
A glaring man | Source: Midjourney
The glare he directed at me was sharp, venomous, and unrecognizable. It was a glimpse of the man Willow had warned me about.
“I just wanted to talk,” he muttered, his voice low and defensive. But he stepped back, his movements deliberate as he turned and walked away.
Mark stayed until I was safely inside my car, his presence a quiet reassurance. But the image of Austin’s glare stayed with me, etched into my mind like a warning.
A woman sitting in her car | Source: Midjourney
The man I’d once trusted completely was gone, replaced by someone I barely recognized.
I blocked Austin on everything: my phone, my email, and even social media. Then I packed a bag and moved in with my friend, Jennifer for a while. The relief of distance was like air filling my lungs after weeks of suffocation.
Sitting in Jennifer’s guest room that night, I thought about how dangerously close I’d come to losing myself.
A woman sitting on a bed | Source: Midjourney
I thought of Willow, her small hands clutching her sweatshirt in the basement, and her mother, rebuilding a life from ashes.
If they could find the strength to start over, so could I. I wasn’t just escaping Austin; I was reclaiming my life. And this time, I would be more careful.
Here’s another story: My new neighbor was making my life hell between his dawn wood chopping and that destructive dog. We were on the verge of an all-out war when his seven-year-old daughter showed up crying on my doorstep with a desperate plea for help.
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.
You Won’t Believe What Made Me Oversleep on My College Entrance Exams
A Race Against Time
On the morning of my medical college entrance exam, I woke up late to find that all my alarms were mysteriously turned off. As I hurried to get ready, my 8-year-old brother stepped in with a plan that would save the day.
Since I was young, I dreamed of becoming a doctor. After my mom died of cancer, that dream became even stronger. I wanted to help people like her, learn more about the disease that took her away, and support others in their battles against it.
Source: Pexels
I worked for this moment for years, going through late nights, countless books, and more exams than I could count. Today, all that hard work was about to pay off: it was finally the day of my medical entrance exam.
Last night, I did everything to make sure I wouldn’t oversleep. I set three alarms on my phone—6:00 a.m., 6:15 a.m., and 6:30 a.m. I even left my curtains open so that the sunlight would wake me up. As I lay in bed, I thought of my mom and promised myself that I’d make her proud.
When I opened my eyes the next morning, something felt wrong. It was dark, too dark. I reached for my phone, and my heart sank—9:55 a.m. My exam started at 10:00.
“No, no, no! This can’t be happening!” I threw off my blankets and grabbed my phone. All three alarms were turned off.
“I know I set these!” I muttered, my hands shaking as I got dressed quickly. My mind raced with questions. How did this happen?
I bolted down the stairs, half-dressed, with my hair everywhere. “Linda!” I called out, desperately looking for my stepmom. “Linda, please! I need a ride to the college. My exam is in five minutes!”
She was in the kitchen, sipping her coffee calmly, watching me with a look I couldn’t quite understand. She raised an eyebrow, giving me a look that was as cold as her coffee cup was hot.
“You’re late already,” she said flatly. “Maybe next time, you should learn to set an alarm properly.”
“I did set them!” I almost shouted, feeling frustrated and panicked. “I triple-checked. They were on, all three of them.”
She shrugged, a slight smirk on her lips. “Clearly, you didn’t. Maybe this is a sign that you’re not cut out for med school. If you can’t even wake up on time, how will you handle something serious, like a patient?”
I stood there, feeling my face grow hot, my mind swirling with disbelief and desperation. This couldn’t be real. My stepmom wouldn’t do this to me, would she?
I turned toward the door, knowing I’d never make it on foot but feeling I had to try. Just as I reached for the handle, I heard a small voice behind me.
“I know who did it,” my little brother Jason said, his voice shaky but his eyes steady.
I turned, confused. “Jason, what are you talking about?”
He took a small step forward, looking at Linda cautiously. “I saw her. Last night. She turned off your alarms, Emily.”
Linda shot him a sharp look. “Jason, stop making up stories,” she hissed.
Jason gulped but didn’t back down. “I’m not lying! I saw you go into her room, pick up her phone, and turn off the alarms. You said she didn’t need to be at that stupid exam anyway.”
My mind was spinning. I looked at Linda, searching her face for denial, for any sign she’d say it was a misunderstanding. But she just sighed, crossing her arms.
“You know what, Emily?” she said coolly, her voice hardening. “Fine. Yes, I did it. You’re not fit to be a doctor. It’s a waste of time and money that your dad could spend on something worthwhile.”
“Like… your beauty salon?” The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Just as I was about to push past her and leave, I heard sirens in the distance, getting louder as they approached our house.
Jason, now holding my hand, gave me a small, hopeful smile. “Don’t worry, Em. I called for help.”
Linda’s face hardened as she looked at Jason, who stood by my side. “You seriously did this?” she asked, barely able to speak.
Jason’s small voice cut through the tension. “You are the bad guy, Linda,” he said, his eyes fierce despite his small size. “Emily is going to be a doctor one day. Mom would be proud of her.”
Linda’s face twisted, and before she could say anything, the wailing sirens outside grew louder. I watched her look toward the window, her eyes widening with surprise.
The front door opened, and two police officers stepped inside. One of them, a tall man, spoke with calm authority. “Is everything alright here?”
Jason didn’t hesitate. “I called you,” he said, standing tall despite his age. “My sister needs to get to her entrance exam. Linda turned off her alarms so she’d miss it.”
The officer’s eyes moved to Linda, who immediately pretended to be innocent. “This is absurd!” she scoffed, folding her arms. “They’re just children, making things up because they’re late.”
But the other officer, a woman with kind eyes, knelt down to Jason’s level. “You called us to help your sister?” she asked gently.
Jason nodded vigorously. “Yes. Emily studied so hard, and she was ready. Linda turned off her alarms so she’d miss her test.”
The officers exchanged glances, then turned to me. “Is that true?” the male officer asked.
“Yes,” I whispered, feeling the weight of everything settle over me. “I have to get to my college right now, or I’ll lose my chance to take the exam.”
The officers nodded and exchanged another glance. “Alright, young lady,” the female officer said, standing up, “We’re going to get you there.”
Linda’s face twisted with disbelief. “Wait, you’re actually going to escort her?” she stammered, frustration evident in her voice. “This is ridiculous!”
“It’s our job to help people,” the officer replied, coolly dismissing Linda. “Now, if you’ll excuse us.”
I turned to Jason, who was smiling proudly, a little hero in his own right. “Thank you, Jason,” I whispered, hugging him tight. “You saved me.”
As I left with the officers, Linda’s face showed a mix of fury and disbelief. The officers helped me into their squad car, and we sped down the road with the sirens blaring, weaving through traffic as we approached the college. My heart pounded in my chest, but this time, it was with determination.
At the exam center, we arrived just minutes before the doors were set to close. The officers stepped out with me, guiding me toward the entrance.
One of the proctors noticed us and approached, looking confused. “Ma’am, the exam is about to begin,” he said, glancing at the officers.
The policewoman explained quickly. “This young lady had her alarms sabotaged at home, but she’s here now. I understand if you can’t make exceptions, but if there’s any way she can sit for the exam…”
The proctor’s stern face softened as he listened. He looked me in the eyes, as if weighing my sincerity, then gave a brief nod. “Alright. Go on in.”
“Thank you,” I managed, barely believing I’d made it.
I found my seat, still shaken but refusing to let the morning’s events get the best of me. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes for a moment, and thought of my mom. This was my moment, and I wasn’t going to let anyone take it from me. I picked up my pencil and began the test.
Hours later, I walked out of the exam room, exhausted but relieved. The officers who had helped me were gone, but I felt their kindness with every step as I headed home. Jason was waiting on the front steps, and he jumped up as soon as he saw me.
“Did you do it?” he asked eagerly, his eyes bright with hope.
I nodded, a smile breaking out despite my exhaustion. “I did, thanks to you.”
He threw his arms around me. “I knew you could.”
Inside, my dad was waiting. His face was pale, and his mouth was set in a grim line. He had been waiting for me to come home to hear everything. Jason took the lead, explaining every detail of what had happened while I was gone.
My dad’s face grew red with anger, his eyes narrowing as he looked over at Linda, who was trying to look calm and unaffected. “Is this true?” he demanded, his voice trembling with restrained fury.
Linda’s eyes darted between us. “I… I was just trying to keep her from a mistake. I didn’t mean for it to go so far,” she mumbled, finally looking cornered.
“You sabotaged her dreams because of your own selfishness,” my dad said coldly. “You’re not staying here another night.”
Linda’s face turned pale as she realized he was serious. She tried to protest, but he shook his head firmly. “Pack your things, Linda. This family deserves better than this.”
Jason and I stood by the door, watching as she finally left. There was no satisfaction in it, just a sense of justice and relief.
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