My neighbors, the Rasmis, turned envy into a sport. When my friend left his Tesla with me, I joked it was mine. Within days, Rashida was spreading rumors that I’d struck gold. That lie triggered a chain of petty escalations—HOA complaints, stolen packages, and even false accusations.
Then things crossed a line.
My cousin Leilah moved in. Suddenly, Samil was “coincidentally” around her, asking for help or offering rides. When we ignored him, Rashida accused Leilah of sex work.
I had enough. I documented everything—drone footage, theft, harassment—and sent it to a lawyer and the HOA. Things quieted. Until Rashida discovered Samil’s affair.
She showed up crying, apologizing. Weeks later, Samil was gone, divorce papers filed, and their house listed.
Now, I sit on my porch with Karma, my rescue beagle, watching peace return to the street. New neighbors moved in—kind, quiet people. The Rasmis’ toxic shadow is gone.
I didn’t seek revenge. I sought calm. Funny how truth and patience won in the end.
Sometimes, karma really does have four legs and a tail.
