He Threw Garbage at My Place, I Made His Home a Garbage Yard

Of course, I also had a special side task here—choosing one unit in this building for “special use.”

I just didn’t expect to run into such vile neighbors right away.

Not long after moving in, I had met the other neighbors on this floor. Everyone else seemed fine.

At first, I thought maybe the trash came from them, so I tossed it out a few times on their behalf. But when I asked around, I realized none of them had done it.

So I ordered a new smart lock with a built-in camera.

That’s when the culprits were revealed.

It was none other than Robert, Karen, and their son Jason.

Their apartment was at the far end of the long hallway, the unit furthest from mine.

Which meant they walked all the way down here just to dump their garbage at my door—

instead of using the trash bins right outside.

No wonder I hadn’t suspected them.

Karen pointed at my door, and Jason bounced happily as he dropped a bag of trash like it was some glorious deed.

Watching the footage made my blood boil, and that’s why I stormed over to knock on their door.

That was the scene from before.

Holding back the rancid stench clinging to me, I hunched and stumbled step by step back to my own door.

If I didn’t shower soon, I was afraid I’d faint from the smell.

Their laughter rang in my ears, piercing, while I blinked away tears of rage.

I couldn’t reveal my identity yet.

But give me a little time, and I’d make sure they paid.

Back inside, I scrubbed myself five or six times until my skin was red and raw.

Then I started cleaning—every inch of the floor along the path I had walked to the bathroom.

By the time I finished, it was midnight. Exhausted, I collapsed into bed.

For once, I slept without dreams.

But lying there, I caught a faint stench of garbage, growing stronger by the minute.

Following the smell to the front door, I realized it was seeping through the cracks.

Without thinking, I yanked the door open.

Instantly, piles of trash bags tumbled toward me, pressing through every gap, even the space above the doorframe.

In seconds, my doorway had become a mountain of garbage.

Panicked, I slammed the door shut just before the avalanche poured inside.

If I’d hesitated another moment, I would’ve been buried alive.

My heart pounded. Breathing hard, I pulled up the smart lock’s camera feed.

Panning from top to bottom, side to side, all I could see was a wall of trash blocking my door.

The garbage mountain was horrifyingly real.

I rewound the footage to earlier that morning.

And there they were—the shameless family of three.

The video showed Robert, Karen, and Jason pushing a cart into the elevator.

By the time they came out, the cart was stacked with bags of trash.

Together, laughing, they piled the bags high at my door.

One cart. Two carts. Three carts…

From ankle height, to knee, until the heap swallowed the camera.

Even then, they didn’t stop.

I could hear the rustling as they continued stacking bags.

God knows how many dumpsters they had emptied.

Fury prickled my scalp. I immediately dialed 911 and explained everything.

The officers were skeptical at first, but they came quickly.

And when they arrived, they were stunned by the sight before them.