Young people make fun of a poor old lady on the bus until the voice of a homeless man interrupts them

There are some stories that captivate your attention… We cordially encourage you to read one more moving story.Mary, an elderly woman, finds it challenging to ascend the bus’s steps due to her weakened physical condition.Just when she was about to give up, she felt a solid hand catch her elbow and hold her up.However, her smile swiftly changed to shame when she turned to thank him.Timothy, a tall, thin man with an untidy appearance and appearance of homelessness, was the owner of the hand.Mary instinctively withdrew her arm and gave a stiff “thank you.”Timothy merely grinned pitifully.Rejection was nothing new to him; it was just part of who he was.

Mary’s occupation of two bus seats made him think of his own mother, who would have been embarrassed to see him in such a manner.Timothy took a seat by himself near the back of the bus.Closing his eyes, Timothy leaned back and considered his daughter Daisy.He kept thinking about how she continued to cling to him even after everything in their lives had crumbled.His wife Valery had been diagnosed with stage four cancer two years prior.Timothy was devastated when Valery passed away despite having spent all of her money on medical care.

Following Valery’s passing, Timothy’s world collapsed.Due to his frequent absences to take care of her, he lost his work, and in order to pay off the obligations, they had to sell their property.He moved into a ramshackle one-bedroom flat in a crumbling building with Daisy.Daisy’s circumstances were deemed inadequate by child welfare workers, who promptly took her away.Timothy’s only comfort now that he was homeless was a bus ticket to see his daughter at her house.

The loud, teasing voice of a teenager startled Timothy out of his reverie.”Driver, have a look at this!The boy pointed at Mary and mumbled, visibly inebriated, “This lady should pay for TWO tickets.”His friend interrupted, making fun of her for occupying two seats.With trembling hands, Mary gripped her handbag while the other passengers turned away, refusing to assist her.Mary was told to get out of her seat by the first teen, who gave her a punch to the chest.Mary calmly remarked, “Young man, there are plenty of other free seats,” despite her trepidation. The second teen, though, was not content.Approaching her with an alcoholic breath, he demanded that Mary vacate her seat.

My Husband Refuses to Help with Our Crying Baby at Night, Puts on Headphones & Listens to Calming Music – I Taught Him a Lesson

Scarlett is at her wit’s end, balancing a demanding career and a teething baby while her husband, Dave, sleeps peacefully with noise-canceling headphones. When he dismisses her pleas for help, Scarlett hatches a cunning plan to make him experience her sleepless nights.

I need to vent about something.

My name’s Scarlett, and I’ve been married to Dave for 25 years. We’ve got three kids: a 12-year-old soccer fanatic, an 8-year-old aspiring astronaut, and our newest addition, Lily, who’s six months old.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I love my kids to bits, but balancing a demanding career and raising these little humans is no joke.

Dave and I used to be this power couple. But lately, he’s been avoiding his share of nighttime baby duty.

Picture this: I’m pacing the room with a screaming, teething baby at 2 a.m., while he’s blissfully asleep, noise-canceling headphones on, listening to some darn calming ocean waves or whatever. It’s infuriating!

So, here’s the setup. It was one of those nights. Lily was teething and inconsolable. I’d tried everything—rocking, feeding, singing lullabies. Nothing worked. Exhausted and at my wits’ end, I shook Dave awake.

“Dave, I need help. Lily’s been crying for hours,” I pleaded, my voice barely masking my frustration.

He groaned and pulled off his headphones. “Scarlett, I have to be up early. My job is demanding. Can’t you handle it?”

“Seriously, Dave?” I snapped, feeling the hot sting of tears in my eyes. “I’ve been handling it all night. I need some support here.”

He rolled his eyes and turned away. “I need my sleep. I can’t function at work if I’m exhausted.”

That was it. The tipping point. His words stung more than they should have. I felt like I was drowning, and he was just floating by, oblivious. Something had to change. I couldn’t keep feeling this undervalued and alone.

That’s when I hatched my plan.

I’m not proud of it, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I decided to modify his precious headphones, planting a hidden speaker controlled by my phone. Yeah, it was sneaky, but I was desperate for him to understand my struggle.

I activated the speaker. The sound of a baby crying filled his headphones. He shot up, confused and irritated.

“Scarlett, did you hear that?” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“Hear what?” I replied, feigning ignorance.

He shook his head and stumbled over to Lily’s crib.

“Dave, I think you’re just stressed,” I said, keeping my voice calm. “Maybe you should help with Lily more often. It might help you sleep better.”

He stared at me, and I could see the wheels turning in his head.

“Yeah, maybe,” he muttered, but the doubt was there.

By the end of the week, Dave was a wreck.

He was snapping at the kids, his patience worn thin.

“Scarlett, I don’t know what’s going on, but I can’t take this anymore. I’m hearing things, and I’m exhausted.”

I bit my lip, feeling a mix of guilt and satisfaction.

“Dave, we need to talk,” I said, my voice steady but filled with the weight of the past few nights.

He looked at me, his eyes bloodshot and weary. “What is it? Just tell me.”

One peaceful night, after a particularly calm evening with Lily finally asleep, we crawled into bed, both of us utterly exhausted. Dave pulled me close, his arm wrapped around me.

“Scarlett,” he whispered, his voice filled with gratitude, “thank you.”

I smiled, feeling a sense of contentment wash over me. “Thank you, Dave,” I whispered back. “For being my partner.”

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*