Plotstory.com

“I remembered one time I caught my friends boyfriend che@ting on her. I went and told her and she asked me to follow her to go and confr0nt him.

When we got there we agreed to talk to him calmly, take her things that are there and bre@k up with him then leave.

But my friend got into the compound and started shouting and insulting him, she asked me to join her I did as a supportive friend, this boy asked us to leave we refused the next thing my friend sl@pped him, he got angry and started be@ting her.

I tried to go and separate and he pûnchèd my eye. The next minute he released his dog on us we ran like we were on a race for award.

I have never ran like that in my life before. Few weeks later my friend told me they've reconciled that it was a misunderstanding.

I misunderstood her boyfriend and that I should forgive him. I felt like pûnch!ng her in the face. I regretted ever going to talk to her about anything and I've been minding my business since then”

—Lady shares a troubling experience in which she was allegedly assaulted while trying to support a friend confronting an unfaithful partner.

My elderly neighbor passed away, and after his funeral, I received a letter from him stating: "You must dig up the secret in my compound that I've been hiding from you for 40 years. You deserve to know the truth."

In a small town, I live a tranquil and stable life with my husband and two children. Everyone is familiar with one another, and nothing particularly dramatic has ever occurred.

When we first arrived, Mr. Daniels was already a resident in the house next door. I recall him mentioning that he had settled there around 30 years prior.

He lived by himself, lacking any family, relatives, or close friends. He never hosted guests at his home.

In fact, I never witnessed anyone visiting him.

Mr. Daniels consistently displayed politeness, often smiling, lending a hand with lawn care, or assisting with heavy grocery bags whenever he noticed that I needed help.

Each Christmas, he would anonymously leave R350 for us along with a note: "For tasty candy for the kids."

While we weren't particularly close, our relationship as neighbors was amicable.

A few days ago, he passed away.

I even assisted in planning the funeral, which wasn’t well attended.

Just two days later, I discovered a sealed envelope.

My name was inscribed on it.

Out of sheer curiosity, I immediately opened it and retrieved a handwritten letter.

It was from Mr. Daniels.

"My dear, if you're reading this, I'm no longer here. There is something I've been hiding for 40 years. In my compound, beneath the old tree, a secret is buried — one I've been keeping from you. But you have the right to know the truth. Don't tell anyone about this."

My hands grew cold. How could this be? I hardly knew him.

Initially, I dismissed it. However, I couldn’t sleep through the night.

My mind was racing.

The following morning, I entered Mr. Daniels' compound armed with a shovel.

The soil beneath the tree felt soft as I began digging and soon struck something metal.

I unearthed a rusty old box.

My heart raced.

I

At my old office, there was a rule nobody could explain.
Never press the elevator button twice.
Just once.

If you pressed it twice, the receptionist would calmly say, “Don’t do that.”
No one knew why.
Naturally, on my third day, I pressed it twice.
Nothing happened.
The elevator came, I got in, went to the 7th floor, did my work. Normal day.

But when I came down for lunch, the receptionist stopped me.
“Did you press the elevator button twice this morning?”
I laughed. “Yeah. Why?”
She stared at me for a moment, then picked up the phone.
“Maintenance? It happened again.”
I thought she was joking.
Two guys from building maintenance arrived within minutes.
One of them asked, “Which floor?”
“Lobby,” she said.
The man sighed, like someone who had done this too many times.
Then he looked at me.
“Next time,” he said, “just press it once.”
I nodded, confused.
They opened the elevator control panel and started checking wires.
I shrugged it off.

The next morning, I walked into the lobby.
The receptionist looked relieved when she saw me.
“Good,” she said quietly.
“Good what?”
“You came back.”
I laughed. “Of course I did. I work here.”
She didn’t laugh.
Instead, she asked:
“You didn’t take the elevator again yesterday, right?”
“Yeah, around 6 p.m.”
Her face went pale.
“You shouldn’t have.”
My stomach dropped a little.
“Why?”
She didn’t answer.
She just pointed at the elevator.
“Look.”
Next to the call button was a small brass plaque I had somehow never noticed.

It read:
“Installed: 1998”
Below it was a second line scratched into the metal.
“Button malfunction reported: 17 times.”
Under that were names.
Seventeen names.
I recognized one immediately.
The guy whose desk I had taken when I joined the company.
I looked back at the receptionist.
“That’s weird.”
She nodded slowly.
“Every time someone presses the button twice, the elevator stops on the 7th floor first.”
“That’s my floor.”
“I know.”
A chill ran through me.
“So what’s the problem?”
She hesitated.
Then said quietly:
“T

Hey baby

There’s this guy that newly moved into our compound. I think education affected his br@!n. I mean can I say he is educationally m@d? ( Abi what English will I use again?)

He studied electrical engineering. And he is into coding and what not.

This boy will go to your change over switch abi control switch and lose everything. He even told us that the electrician that wired the whole compound did a b@d job.

That he would love to go inside everyone’s apartment to do a rewiring. In fact the whole compound.

He went to the compound’s electrical box and did whatever he did and the whole compound electricity went off.

No one knew what happened, we thought Nepa generally took the light. Until we got back in the night and found out he was the one that went to lose it and couldn’t fix it. We called an electrician around 10pm last night to come and fix it.

This night again I just bumped into this guy downstairs with tools going towards that direction again.

If anything happens to our light again this night , he will r£gr£t moving into this compound ooooo.

The first time I noticed his madness was the day he knocked on my door, I was having breakfast. I checked to know who it was him.

He said he would like to come in. I opened my door he came in with his backpack. He was walking from switch to switch. I became uncomfortable.

I had to ask him what he was looking for? He said he was trying to compare the wiring in his place to mine. Unknown to me that he did it to my other neighbors too.

From that very day he became a particular concern. — Lady shares.

During the lockdown session of BBN, Laycon professed his undying love to Erica, and got repeatedly turned down by the actress.

Erica turned down Laycon's advances for rich Kiddwaya who didn't promise her any commitment. While in the house, Laycon had nothing to offer her other than his affection.

Meanwhile, Kiddwaya is a billionaire's son. She felt it was better to try her luck with him than rely on the love of a broke boy.

Kiddwaya and Erica's relationship outside the house lasted like an or**sm. Their romance collapsed like a badly arranged cards.

Women don't joke with hypergamy. A woman will rather be with a rich man who promises her no commitment than to get involved with an average man who is faithful.

Learn about women's psychology before getting involved with them. 99% of women won't choose you unless they see value in you. Kings, why are you settling for AWWWN?

Damson Idris is flaunting Lori Harvey like he has won a priceless trophy. This BOQ is like the black Kim Kardashian.

Her multiple relationships are hot topics in Hollywood. Several male celebrities have piped, swiped, and referred her. Her notoriety got so emboldened that a father and son even doked her.

The list of her exes are Future, Diddy and his son Justin Combs, Memphis Depay, Trey Songs, Michael B. Jordan, Lewis Hamilton, Abou Thiam (Akon's brother), etc.

Why do simps love to finish last? A BOQ whom every black male celebrities are using for come, it got to Damson Idris' turn, he is parading her like a world cup trophy.

Kings, street properties belong to the street. You can't bring a zebra from the wild and decide to tame her. You are looking for trouble.

Leave people in their natural habitats. It enhances their survival chances.

This year just slow. we still dey 2nd Jan since last week?!
🥹🥹

I’m sorry, but at this point in my life, I’m not sticking around for anyone who cheats, lies, or plays games. I’m not entertaining people who refuse to grow up, can’t communicate, or still move like they don’t know what they want. I’m not doing back & forth energy with nobody. Be solid or be gone.

I’d rather be single and at peace than in something that drains me. I’m not desperate for attention or stuck in no disrespectful “situationship.” I just don’t have the time or energy for anything that doesn’t make me feel loved, respected, and genuinely happy. Period.

I wanna change so bad. I don’t wanna get angry over every little thing, or react to everything that bothers me. I don’t wanna care so deeply about things that don’t deserve that kind of energy. I don’t wanna keep giving pieces of myself to situations that don’t pour back into me. I just wanna move with peace, patience, and understanding. I wanna grow, not for anybody else but for me.