People Distribute Their Mischievous Revenge Stories

“Growing up, my sister and I had no love toward our father whatsoever. I’m not gonna bore you with details but he was horrible.

When my sister got accepted into a much better but also further high school than our local, she moved immediately and rarely visited. We were 10 years apart so I was 4 at that time.

I grew up resenting her for leaving me to deal with his crap all by myself, but now I understand better and we’re on good terms.

My local factory was so big that it supported my whole town. Almost everyone worked there, so everyone knew each other.

My parents too, but then it was purchased by the defense ministry and they decided to cut off anyone without at least a high school degree. My mother was let go, and this was after she’d had me 4 months. My father, however, made it until retirement and was granted military status.

Basically, they gave him an honorable rank so his pension would almost double, but also you’d have to act accordingly because, in terms of speaking, you’re military personnel now.

My childhood was an absolute nightmare, so needless to say I turned out to be an absolute mess.

Anger management and mental instability are notably the worst and I’m still working on them.

When I turned 18, I enlisted. Two major benefits: it didn’t cost anything and I could never come home if I didn’t want to. For me, it was literally a highway out of a nightmare.

Fast forward 3 years later, I got an honorable discharge (turned out I had actual mental problems, who would have known?) I got a bulk load of funds and even more in the following months when they were able to process my military insurance. I came home to find my town incredibly underwhelming and my father hadn’t changed a bit.

Not wanting to spend the rest of my life in this trash hole, I took what I could and moved to the city where my sister was living. The last words dear old dad said to me was ‘You’d never make it’ because apparently, being discharged for a mental illness showed that I was a coward.

Also, I think he didn’t like that I was tougher than the boy who used to obey his every word that I once was and that I’d stood up for myself more in the few weeks I’ve stayed with him than the entire 18 first years of my life.

I moved to a new environment, took up a blue-collar job (I was pretty beefy thanks to the military), and decided to pursue a career in IT, all the while taking care of my mental health.

Sometime during this time, he got diagnosed with cancer.

I was told it was not dangerous, but operations were required. My sister had actually reconciled with him, partly because of my mother, a few years prior and would occasionally bring my niece home to visit them. She was quite successful, so she decided to pay for the whole thing.

Operations, treatment, hospitals, recoveries, it was all hers. She paid for this while moving into a new house and buying her first car (those things are pretty expensive in my country). My father had a huge bank account because of his pension, but he didn’t have to pay a single penny.

After a year or so he’s on recovery, and all in all, things were good.

During this time I was struggling with working and studying, living paycheck to paycheck, and had to rely on a social program to get treatment for my illness. I visited him after every operation, though it wasn’t anything tearful.

If he didn’t poke me, I was fine.

After nearly a year of staying at my sister’s house, he and my mother headed home after his doctor gave him a go. At that time I was looking for a new job because my current job was horrible and it made my mental health actually worse, and I was lucky to find one where most of my skills were transferred and I had enough time to finish my studying.

One day my mother called in tears and asked me to come home that weekend. She told me that my father had been seeing someone else. Now I must admit I’d not put anything behind this man, but then I thought she was paranoid (she still is, up to this day, about everything) and I resented the thought of going home on a 4 hours trip both just for something that’s utterly unimportant.

So I calmed her and swept it under the rug.

Fast forward a few months, I got another call, this time from my sister. She came to visit that week with my niece to inform them that she was 3 months pregnant. What was supposed to be a happy union turned into an absolute crap show.

Apparently, when my father left his phone unattended for a few minutes, his mistress sent him a very inappropriate picture and my mom saw it pop up. Needless to say, all heck broke loose. My sister said that was the first in many years that she saw my mother scream b****y murder at my father, and when he tried to hit her, my sister threw herself in between, which prompted her husband to throw himself in between (because, you know, she’s 3 months pregnant).

It all ended in a very teary trip back to our city after hours of hurling insults at each other. The only good thing that came out of it was my mother somehow was able to bring his phone with her.

We convinced my mother to get a divorce, but she’s the submissive housewife who thought divorces were worse than boiling live puppies, and I think back then she’s still somewhat hoping that he’d turn around.

They’ve been together for almost 35 years at that point so I figured something must have been there. She didn’t want it, so we dropped it and decided to cut him out for good.

Lo and behold, half a year after the incident, my father’s side of the family started to contact me.

I have a strict no-call policy where the only people allowed to call me outside of work hours are my mother, my sister, her husband, 3 of my best friends, and only recently, my significant other. So to my bamboozlement, my father, his sister (my aunt), and his mother all called within a day.

They suddenly acted so nice and convinced me to come to visit them. Obviously, that was all a ruse. After the incident, my father’s side all blamed my mother and said she should have kept it a secret and not made a mess ‘for the family’s sake’.

They also disavowed me and my sister because we were ‘ungrateful brats’ after we did not accept their ultimate argument ‘He’s your father after all’.

Out of morbid curiosity, I ventured back alone to see what it was about. Turned out, that they wanted to sell his house.

It was on my grandmother’s land. Back when he was about to undergo his first operation, we didn’t know how it’d turn out so he transferred the house to my name because apparently, inheriting a dead person’s estate in my country is a living nightmare.

Out of convenience, we convinced my grandmother to give me the land as well since she was very old (80) at the time. This was back when we were on good terms, I knew for sure they would rather gouge their eyes out than follow up with any of that if it had happened a year later.

I smelt something in the air, I couldn’t place it but I knew it was there. So I told them (nicely) that I would think of it and immediately went back, faking an emergency. A plan formed when I was driving back, and that’s the first time I’d been so pleased about anything I actually cracked a smile.

I went to my sister’s immediately (my mom had been staying with her) and laid out a plan. After a year of living in the city, my mom was much more open-minded and it only took a few convincing for her to agree with the plan.

My sister contacted a lawyer and asked what our options were. Because both the house and the land were in my name, they had no claim to them, and any paper that didn’t have my signature on it would be considered useless under the law.

They could try and claim it was rented out, but then they’d have to move far away in hope that I’d never be able to locate them, and I knew it’d be too much trouble for a couple of old folks. They could claim it’s his life achievement, but because he and my mother never divorced, it’s technically half hers as well.

This is when I came up with an idea. I asked the lawyer what if my mother filed for a divorce, he said it’s highly unlikely the court would reward my mother’s full claim unless we could prove that he was unfaithful before the separation.

To his surprise, I could.

Remember the phone that my mother brought back from that day? It was smashed during the fighting but generally, still in one piece. She asked me to throw it away a few days after but my lazy self just brought it back to my place and threw it in the loft. Sufficient to say it provided us with more than enough proof of his indecency.

After weighing our options, I called to inform my father that I would come home the next month to make ‘an announcement.’ He was eager to hear it. Upon my arrival, they were so nice and sweet and whatnot, but after I introduced my lawyer it’s like they flipped a switch and suddenly became vile and violent.

I presented him with 2 options: relinquish any claim to the house, or be served with a lawsuit. In my country, marital violations are 6 months probation minimum, up to 2 years in prison. After a lot of screaming and name callings and feet stomping tantrums he kicked us out, so naturally, I assumed he chose the latter.

At the first hearing my mom, my lawyer, and I were present. It turned out to be another screaming contest in which he made up all kinds of lies about my mother. At some point, my lawyer leaned in to tell me that if the officer didn’t stop his rantings, it’s likely that they were buddies and asked me to let him handle things.

The officer told us this case wasn’t a priority, it would take months to process, we wouldn’t like the paperwork, and it’s best to settle this out of court. My lawyer politely declined and told my father to expect another hearing soon, under much less friendly circumstances.

He tried one more tactic in between, which was calling all the relatives and telling them how my mother was a witch and I was an ungrateful brat in hope of creating some kind of pressure on us. Very few of them took his side and even if all of them did, I would have never let him go that easy.

In the second hearing, he finally cracked and agreed to my terms, which were relinquishing any claim he might have with the house and divorcing my mom. Basically, the only person who has any claim to the house now is my mother. I agreed to let him keep living in it for the rest of his life though, but not anyone else, otherwise known as his mistress whom he was basically living with.

This was where my work started. First, my sister gathered all the receipts from all the medical billings she has paid for his treatment. A few of them were missing, but we were able to put up a huge folder. I also crapped my pants learning how expensive cancer treatment could be.

Not a fan.

When we had a general sum of the funds we billed him for it. This is very unethical in my country since children are expected to take care of their parents, but we threw that out the window long ago. We also knew it was not a criminal case so we just went to small court claims and then sent in bailiffs to collect, which was just this lady.

She went on with an ‘I don’t give a crap’ attitude and when he failed to comply, she sent in the police to start seizing assets. So say goodbye to wooden furniture, a 27-inch smart TV, a fridge, and a reclining massage chair, all were bought by my sister as well.

He had to pay out of his pocket because that lady insisted they continue seizing whatever he bought until she saw the funds. Although the final amount was halved (my mother, under the eyes of the law, shared half of that for some reason), it still cost him 70% of his saving.

Of course, this wasn’t about the money, we were just petty. We told the moving company they could do whatever they wanted with the furniture. Looking back I should have taken the recliner because my back hurts even though I’m only in my late 20s.

After that was done, I contacted my local factory to file a report. Remember the sweet pension he got with the condition that he behaved accordingly? Clearly, someone had been a bad boy. They let him go with it even though it was a small town and everyone knew everything because nobody ever filed a report, but that’s not the case anymore.

I gave them a very detailed folder with pictures from his phone. To say they were inappropriate was an understatement. They immediately set up a hearing and he was stripped of his rank, making his pension down to just over half of the original amount.

I know this because old folks gossip like their lives depends on it, and my mother is not excluded. She was very happy hearing about that, it’s all she talked about in a month.

I was about to be done here but a week later, my sister called to tell me that my aunt came to her door to berate her and her children.

My sister was working from home, and my mom also lived there but had gone out for some reason. My sister just called security to kick her out and warn me she could go for me next. I was seeing b***d, not because of some lame Karen that could cause me inconveniences at most, but because she was screaming at my niece and nephew.

As a gay man, I know full well the b***dline ends with me so I put all of my love into those little guys, to the point that if I had been there, I would have bitten her head off.

So I dug a little and found out my aunt was knees deep in debt.

She was hoping she could leech some funds off my father, if not from what he made selling the house then from his big bank account. Since neither of those was available anymore she was very angry and thought she could lay it on my sister.

You wanna know what a man could do with determination and raging hatred?

I never set up an online social presence, mainly because up to my 18th birthday I was too poor to have a phone, and then the military taught me it wasn’t needed. But, for this special occasion, I made an exception.

I created a social media account and befriended her. I didn’t even have to pretend to be anyone since old people apparently accept friend requests from anyone. She had this vibe where she’d show off her money and her vacations and her items, like a wealthy person.

From my mother and her trusty gossip circle, I knew that she always told whoever she owed funds that she was struggling. So I figured she must be blocking them.

The next part was easy. I just had to send all of her selfies to everyone she’s owing to.

I didn’t have to declare myself since I was literally on a throwaway account, so it’s just this really long line of messages that showed my aunt spending her money lavishly. For the next following month, she was threatened, not with legal actions like I did, but with much more sinister actions.

She would have people throw ‘gifts’ at her door, like paint, fish sauce, and sometimes, literal crap. My mother also told me this of course. She finally figured out what I was gonna do when I told her to find me a list of all the people she owes.

As much as I want to take credit for this, the idea wasn’t mine. Forgive me for I once again had to lay out a bit of background.

My father’s side of the family is this very traditional family where you would have a person acting as the head of the family deciding things that matter.

This was way before the war so obviously they don’t do such things anymore. But the head of the family still has a certain voice, and there’s this once-in-a-year ceremony where we gather together to pay tribute to our ancestors. During the ceremony, the head of the family will give a speech, and then some announcements like who died, who got married, who gave birth, etc. Then there will be a celebratory party where we basically get crap-faced intoxicated. My great grandfather was the head, he had three sons and 2 of them died during the war, so my grandfather took the mantle, then my father, and eventually, me.

This whole side of the family is in another town that’s like 3 hours away from our town, mainly because my grandfather didn’t expect to be the head, so he moved out seeking opportunities. I found these gatherings redundant and unnecessary, but that year I was actually looking forward to them.

My father tried to keep the actual date hidden (it wasn’t fixed but generally, somewhen between June), but he seriously underestimated my mother. She doesn’t have a gossip circle, she has an infinite number of them. So my mother, my sister’s family, and I all head back for it.

The trip was 14 hours in total, but the result was worth it.

We timed it so we would come 2 days earlier than my father (again thanks to her gossip circle). This side of the family had never heard the full story before, only the version my father gave them, which was that he and my mother left in good faith.

I actually gave my father some credit for not badmouthing my mom. After weighing all the pros and cons, we decided to let my mother loose, and she’s exceptional when it came to relaying details about her personal tragedies. I kid you not if I had posted her story, word for word, by this time next week there would be a global Justice-For-OP’s-Mother movement.

It took just one day for everyone to know what a jerk my father had been.

The look on his face when he arrived, with my aunt and my grandmother, and saw my family already there was priceless. He got the stink eye from everyone for the rest of the day, nobody would initiate conversations with him so he’s just sitting there like a sad dog.

Now I know what they said about dead horses but this idea was brilliant not to follow through. My uncle, let’s call him Oliver, came up with this. In the hierarchy, he’s equal to my father, and in the event that my branch doesn’t have a male successor (100% what’s going to happen), his branch will be the head of the family.

He told me I should take up the mantle of the head. It was very sudden, I didn’t have a speech ready, my father was supposed to do that, but Oliver told me I could just tell whatever I want because nobody really paid attention to that thing anyway.

All the other elders were okay with it.

The speech wasn’t even the best thing. At the celebratory party, people will be assigned tables based on the family tree. Heads of each branch will sit together, their children sit together, the elders sit together, and so on and so forth.

Because I was elevated to the head of my branch, I would be sitting at the big boy table. My father didn’t even get to sit at my supposed table because miraculously, it was full, even though I could have sworn there weren’t 20 of us and each table can sit up to 10.

He had to sit at the regular table, with my aunt, and a bunch of nasty widows who didn’t hold back on their snarky comments (so I was told).

I don’t think he’ll ever come back to one of those any time soon.

My father is now just a miserable old man.

His mistress left him because surprisingly, she was after his money. He’s living in our old house with next to nothing. His retirement money, though halved, was good enough for him to live by. Last I heard, his cancer has come back, and obviously this time my sister won’t be paying for it anymore.

He had tried to initiate contact with my mother, trying to make amends. We had to block his number and his profile on my mother’s account because she actually considered it. She has her soft sides.

My aunt has to sell her house to pay for all the debt, or else they’d just continue harassing her.

She now lives in a small house she bought with the rest of her money. I felt bad for her husband because he’s actually chill and quite nice, but he’s not the most decisive and therefore doesn’t really confront her. I hope he’s doing better.

I have no empathy for her only son though. Let’s just say the apple doesn’t even fall from the tree.

How do I know all of this? My mother’s gossip circle.

I left my grandmother out of this because she’s very old. She’s not demented in any way, she’s perfectly sane, but she loved her son too much to admit he’s in the wrong.

Also, she was very nice and sweet to me growing up, a lot of my good memories are with her. I’m sad because she doesn’t see my mother the same. I also stopped talking to her, and would only visit once during Lunar New Year.

She’s lived in the small house she and my grandfather built, on the land that’s now in my name. When she and my father are dead I will carry out her wish, to build an altar for her and my grandfather. Whether or not my father will be included is still up to debate.”

Another User Comments:

Was this revenge too harsh? This person thinks so.

“Still, somehow, I feel a little bad for his father. Myself, having an awful narcissistic parent who got alienated later in life, in no way support any of OP’s father’s actions, but the picture of a cancer-stricken old man sitting defeated in a lonely house somehow melts me.” Bee_Ina