MY NEIGHBOR IS HIDING SOMETHING... HORROR STORY ANIMATED 7 SECOND RIDDLES HORROR EDITION

7 SECOND RIDDLES HORROR EDITION!
You never know what a person living next door could be hiding… Well, not this time! This true horror story definitely stayed at the back of my mind for a while! I just couldn’t get rid of the feeling that all my neighbors are hiding some scary stories in their houses! Maybe you will find this scary story not so scary at all… OMG, no matter how I try to look at this story, it still IS a scary story! Right?! Share your opinion after you hear this story!
When my grandma retired, she decided to move to Florida, leaving her house in New Jersey to her favorite grandchild – me. I’d recently graduated from college and was looking for my own place, so the timing was perfect. Plus, I loved my grandma’s house – I used to spend every summer there as a kid, and it was full of fond memories.
So, I packed up and moved to the Garden State. My grandma was still at the house finishing with papers and packing the last of her things. I was really glad to see her before she left. We talked, had some pie in the kitchen, and at some point, my grandma glanced out the window with a sad look on her face. I asked what was wrong.
“I just thought of Mr. Johnson. You remember him, don’t you?”
Oh, I remembered him alright! Mr. Johnson was grandma’s neighbor from across the street, and he was… creepy. He was always grumpy and borderline crazy in my opinion. Whenever he saw me and other kids playing outside, he’d run at us with a pitchfork, screaming and cussing, demanding that we don’t go anywhere near his house. I heard some nasty rumors about him – that he was a cannibal-murderer, that he buried his whole family alive… I didn’t know what to believe, but I did know that he terrified me. But whenever I tried to talk to grandma about it, she’d simply say that Mr. Johnson was just a really unhappy person and that I shouldn’t bother him.
So when she asked me if I remember him, I cautiously answered, “Yeah, I do. Why?”
“I don’t think I ever told you what happened to him, did I?”
I shook my head, “No.”
And then my grandma told me one of the most heartbreaking stories I’ve ever heard. She said that many years ago, before I was born, Mr. Johnson was a completely different person – he was a young man happily married with two beautiful kids. He adored his wife and was one of the nicest people in the neighborhood. But his happiness didn’t last long. A few years before I spent my first summer with my grandma, his family got in a horrible car accident. He and his kids made it out alive, but his wife couldn’t be saved. A few months after that, his son and daughter went missing. Just vanished overnight. The police never did find them… As you can imagine, all of this devasted Mr. Johnson, and he hasn’t been the same ever since.
When my grandma told me this, I started to feel almost guilty for the way I thought of him, the way I acted. Me and the neighborhood kids would constantly make fun of him, trying to look cool and brave in front of each other. All of a sudden, I remembered my friends even daring me to break into his house… I couldn’t remember if I succeeded or not. Some images flashed in my head: a basement, ropes hanging from the walls, a decrepit bed that looked more like a prison bunk… “Probably not, I must’ve just been imagining stuff out of fear,” I thought to myself.
“Will you look after him, Michael?” my grandma’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
“What?”
“You know, just check on him once in a while, make sure he’s okay. He doesn’t have anyone, he barely talks to the neighbors. I used to invite him over sometimes or bake something for him. Since I’m moving, I’m worried that he may clam up entirely.” She paused for a moment. “Will you look after him (beat) for me?”
“Sure” I nodded. “No problem.”
A few days after she left, I decided to fulfil my promise and baked some blueberry muffins for the old man. The idea of bringing them to Mr. Johnson was kinda stressful (I was still a little scared of him). But I gave grandma my word…
I put a few muffins on a plate and walked towards Mr. Johnson’s house. Funny, but with every step I took, I felt more and more like a naughty little boy who’s getting into something he shouldn’t. I brushed aside these stupid childhood fears and knocked on the door...

Music: Epidemic Sound https://www.epidemicsound.com/
Music: Youtube Library https://www.youtube.com/audiolibrary/music

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