My packages kept vanishing after a young woman moved in across the street. One night, I caught her on camera stealing a box at 1 a.m. Instead of calling the cops, I decided to teach her a lesson. The next night, I left a fake package outside—with something inside that would make sure she’d never forget what she did.
I filled the box with a bunch of small, noisy alarms and one of those glitter bombs people use for prank videos. When the package was moved, the alarms went off, and glitter exploded everywhere. I watched from my upstairs window as the young woman, wearing a faded green hoodie, grabbed the box. The second she stepped off my porch, a loud screeching noise erupted, and rainbow glitter covered her from head to toe.
She screamed and ran across the street, but the alarms kept blaring as she tried to pull them off. I’ll admit it: I laughed until I cried. But when I looked closer, I noticed something strange. She didn’t just look shocked—she looked terrified, like someone who’d never imagined getting caught. And that’s when I realized this wasn’t just some petty thief.
The next morning, I saw her sitting on her porch, head in her hands. Her hoodie was gone, and she looked younger than I expected—barely in her early twenties. I decided to walk over, package footage on my phone as proof, but something stopped me. Her face. It wasn’t the face of a hardened criminal; it was the face of someone drowning.
I introduced myself as Orson. She said her name was Nella. Her voice shook like she hadn’t slept in days. I asked why she was stealing, and after a long pause, she told me the truth. She’d moved here after leaving an abusive boyfriend two towns over. She had no job, no money, and the shelter she tried to stay at was full. She’d been sleeping on the floor of the empty house she claimed was her aunt’s.
