Couple Moves into an Old House, Soon Realizes They Are Not Alone — Story of the Day

A couple moves into an old house due to financial problems. At first the house turns out to be not as bad as it seemed, but the situation worsens when they start hearing footsteps and food begins to disappear from the refrigerator. Could it be that they are not alone in the house?

Margo and Robert were moving into Margo's grandmother's house. They had loaded the car with all their belongings and driven there, the trunk and back seat packed to the brim.

Margo had recently quit her job, and they needed to save money, which is why they decided to move into this house to save on rent.

Neither Margo nor Robert was happy about this. They were moving to a run-down house on the outskirts of town.

Robert worked as a foreman and planned to renovate the house gradually. He was good with his hands, so he was somewhat optimistic about the challenge. Still, it was a lot to take on.

As Robert parked near their new home, Margo got out of the car with a sense of dread. The house looked... spooky. Its shutters hung at odd angles, and the paint peeled off in large patches.

Weeds grew tall around the property, and the garden was overgrown with thorny bushes. The house seemed to loom over them, casting long shadows in the late afternoon light.

Margo did not know her grandmother well, nor did the rest of her family. Her grandmother had been a very closed-off and cold person, as well as quite strange. Everyone in the town considered her the local oddball.

Robert approached Margo, trying to sound upbeat. "Are you ready to go inside?" he asked, glancing at the house.

"Honestly, I'm not," Margo replied, feeling a knot in her stomach.

Robert nodded, understanding her feelings. "Yeah, me neither. This isn't what we hoped for, but we have to do it," he said, picking up a box from the car.

Margo took a deep breath and followed him. "I know. Let's just get this over with," she said, trying to muster some courage as they walked towards the house.

Robert opened the door, and Margo entered the house with him. She expected to see layers of dust, cobwebs, and dirt. Instead, the house looked quite well-maintained, as if someone had been taking care of it.

Margo knew this was impossible since her grandmother had died a few months ago, and no one had entered the house since. The thought that someone else might be living there unsettled her.

Robert walked around the house, inspecting it. He checked the floor for stability, ensuring no weak spots.

He flipped light switches, pleased that the electricity was still working. Then, he turned the water on and off, ensuring the plumbing was functional.

"It's not as bad as we thought," Robert said after checking the house. He looked around, nodding at the relatively clean space.

"You're right, but that scares me. Doesn't it scare you?" Margo asked, glancing nervously around the room. She couldn't shake the uneasy feeling.

"Why should it scare us? We'll have to spend lesser money on this house than we thought. That's good news, especially now," Robert replied, thinking about their tight budget.

He knew how much Margo wanted to become an artist and was doing his best to support her dreams. Margo sighed, feeling a mix of relief and guilt. She knew Robert was trying hard to keep things positive for her.

She felt bad for not working, but she hoped her art would one day help them financially. Just then, she heard a strange noise, like footsteps.

"Did you hear that?" she asked, her voice tense.

"Hear what?" Robert looked at her, confused.

"It sounded like someone was walking," Margo said, her eyes wide.

"You must have imagined it; I didn't hear anything," Robert replied, trying to calm her down.

Margo decided that Robert was right, and she had imagined it. She shook her head, trying to dismiss the sound.

A few hours later, their furniture arrived. They worked together to set up the house, arranging their belongings and making the space look more like home.

That night, Margo lay in bed next to Robert, dozing intermittently, unable to sleep soundly. The unfamiliar creaks and groans of the old house kept her on edge.

Suddenly, she heard a noise, like a door closing. Her eyes snapped open, and she felt a chill run down her spine. She immediately shook Robert awake.

"Robert, did you hear that?" she whispered urgently.

Robert groaned and rubbed his eyes. "You probably just dreamed it," he mumbled, half-asleep.

"No, I was awake. I'm sure I heard something," Margo insisted, her heart pounding.

Robert sighed. "It's an old house, Margo. It makes noises. Try to go back to sleep," he said, turning over.

But Margo couldn't ignore the noise. She carefully got out of bed, trying not to disturb Robert further, and turned on the flashlight on her phone.

The dim beam cut through the darkness as she left the room and began to walk through the house, checking each room one by one. She found nothing unusual, but her unease only grew.

Finally, Margo reached the basement door. She decided to check if there was anything there. She realized the door was locked from the other side when she tried the handle. Her heart skipped a beat.

Margo returned to bed, deciding to deal with it the following day, her mind racing with possibilities. She snuggled back under the covers, trying to push the thoughts away.

This time, she managed to fall asleep, though her dreams were filled with unsettling images of the house and its secrets.

The next day, before work, Robert went to the store to buy groceries so Margo could prepare dinner for them. He left early, wanting to make sure they had everything they needed. Margo waved him off with a smile, feeling a bit more settled after the previous night's events.

Throughout the day, as she cleaned and arranged her art studio, Margo forgot about the sounds she had heard at night and the locked door. She got lost in her work, unpacking her art supplies and setting up her easel.

She felt a sense of peace as she organized her brushes and paints, imagining the beautiful pieces she would create in this new space.

But when it came time to cook dinner, she opened the fridge and noticed that some of the food was missing.

Not much, just two eggs and a bit of milk, but it was still strange, considering Robert had just bought the groceries, and they hadn't eaten anything yet. She frowned, puzzled.

Determined to find out what was going on, Margo went to the garage, where Robert had already moved his work tools. She grabbed a few tools she thought might help unlock the door.

After fiddling with the door for a few minutes, Margo managed to unlock it. Her heart raced as the door creaked open.

The basement was dark, and Margo couldn't see anything at first. She felt for the light switch, turned it on, and cautiously went down the stairs. What she saw confirmed her suspicions.

On the floor were two small mattresses with pillows and blankets. On one of the mattresses lay a stuffed toy, worn but loved.

There was also a portable gas stove on the floor. Margo's mind raced. Someone was indeed living in the house.

After Robert returned from work and they had dinner, Margo debated whether to tell him what she had found today. She thought about the two small mattresses, the stuffed toy, and the portable stove.

She knew Robert already had a lot on his plate and didn't want to worry him unnecessarily. Deciding to keep quiet for now, she decided to investigate further on her own.

When Robert fell asleep, Margo quietly got out of bed. She was sure that whoever lived in the basement would come out at night.

Taking a deep breath, she grabbed a flashlight and headed down to the basement, deciding not to turn on the light to avoid scaring the person living there.

She carefully descended the stairs, trying to make as little noise as possible. The darkness was thick and oppressive, but the beam from her flashlight cut through it.

She moved the light slowly, sweeping it across the room until it landed on the spot where the mattresses were. To her shock, she saw two children sleeping on them—a boy and a girl—huddled together under thin blankets.

Unexpectedly, Margo screamed, unable to contain her surprise. The children woke up, their eyes wide with fear, and they started screaming too. Her heart pounding, Margo ran to the switch and turned on the light.

The sudden brightness filled the basement, revealing the children fully. The boy looked about sixteen, and the girl was much younger, maybe six years old. They clung to each other, trembling.

"Who are you? And what are you doing in my house?" Margo asked, trying to keep her voice steady. She stared at the children, her mind racing.

The boy stepped forward, protecting the girl. "I can explain everything," he said. "I'm Mark, and this is my younger sister Olive."

"Why are you here?" Margo asked, her eyes wide with concern.

Mark took a deep breath. "Our parents kicked us out. We had nowhere to go. We came to this house thinking no one lived here."

"But Sally lived here," Olive said quietly, her voice trembling. "She took us in and cared for us."

Margo felt a pang of sadness. "Sally is gone," she said softly.

"Yes, we figured that out," Mark replied. "That's why we're in the basement now. We didn't know where else to go."

Margo looked at the children. They were clearly frightened and vulnerable. Children shouldn't have to live in a basement and steal food, she thought. They needed a safe place. She sighed heavily, feeling a mix of emotions.

"Get up," she said gently. "I'll make a bed for you in a room upstairs."

The children got up hesitantly and followed Margo. She led them to the guest room, made up the bed, and gave them fresh blankets and pillows. They looked at her with gratitude and relief.

She watched as the children settled into the bed, then quietly returned to her room with Robert.

As she lay down, her mind was filled with thoughts of Mark and Olive. She knew their presence would change everything.

In the morning, Margo told Robert she had something to show him. Curious, he followed her to the guest room. She slowly opened the door, revealing the two children still sleeping peacefully.

Robert's eyes widened in shock. "Who are they?" he whispered.

Margo took a deep breath and explained, "They've been living in our basement."

Robert ran a hand through his hair, trying to process the information. "What are we supposed to do, Margo?"

Margo hesitated, then said, "Maybe this is our chance to finally become parents. We've always wanted children and couldn't have our own."

Robert sighed deeply. "But we barely have enough money for ourselves. How can we afford to take care of two kids?"

Margo looked at him with determination. "I could sell my paintings. I know I haven't made much yet, but I could try harder. We could make it work."

Robert shook his head. "We need to be realistic. Let's talk about it if you manage to sell your paintings. For now, the best option for both them and us is to turn them over to the authorities."

Margo felt a pang of sadness but understood his point. Robert kissed her forehead gently. "I'll see you later," he said before leaving for work.

When the children woke up, Margo sat them down in the kitchen. Her heart ached as she prepared to tell them the news. "Mark, Olive, I need to talk to you about something," she began softly.

Mark looked at her with wide eyes. "What is it?"

Margo took a deep breath. "You might be handed over to the authorities. They will find a place for you to live."

The children immediately panicked. "No! Please, don't do that" Olive pleaded. "We'll end up on the streets again."

Mark's eyes filled with tears. "Please, Margo. It's not safe."

Margo felt tears welling up in her own eyes. "I would love to keep you both, but my husband and I are going through a tough time. We don't have enough money to take care of you properly."

Olive wiped her eyes and asked, "Is there any other way?"

Margo thought for a moment. "If I could sell my paintings, we might be able to keep you. But that's not guaranteed."

That evening, Robert returned home with the authorities. The moment the children saw the social workers, they screamed and clung to Margo, begging not to be taken away. "Please, Margo, don't let them take us!" they cried.

Margo's heart broke as she tried to comfort them. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. She looked at Robert, hoping for a change of heart, but he stood firm.

The social workers gently took Mark and Olive away. The children's cries echoed in the house long after they were gone. Margo turned to Robert, tears streaming down her face. "Why did you do this?"

Robert's face was lined with sorrow. "It was painful for me too, Margo. I want children and a family with you, but we can't give them a good life right now. I had to think of what's best for everyone."

A few days later, Margo sat in her art studio in front of a blank canvas, unable to paint. The studio felt empty without the children's presence.

She got up, grabbed the canvas and her paints, and went to the basement. The two small mattresses were still there, a silent reminder of Mark and Olive. She began to paint, pouring all her emotions into the artwork.

When she finished, she named the painting "Survival." Margo put the painting up for sale, and to her astonishment, it was bought the same day for a very good sum.

It was enough money for them to take the children and support them for the time being. But Margot and Robert were confident that Margot would sell other paintings as well, and they would be able to provide for the children

Excitedly, Margo told Robert about the sale. He smiled, nodded, and said, "Let's do it."

They went to the authorities and found out that Mark and Olive were looking for a foster family because their parents' living conditions were terrible. Margo and Robert arranged to become the children's guardians and brought them home.

They had already prepared a room for each child, filling them with toys, books, and warm blankets.

When Mark and Olive walked into their new rooms, their eyes lit up with joy. Margo and Robert watched, feeling a deep sense of fulfillment and happiness. Their family was finally coming together.

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