You screw ME over?

We’ll see about that!

The person who wrote this story on Reddit was fired up and they were nice enough to share it with all of us!

Take a look at what they had to say.

Try to get rid of me in an overseas big city? We’ll get rid of you instead.

“Back in 2011 me and my immediate family traveled to Saudia Arabia for Umrah, or what’s known as the lesser pilgrimage.

You visit Makkah, make rounds around the Kaabah, pray with all your heart and soul, you get the picture.

My dad and I were excited because we were all about going on a spiritual journey and casting away the problems of the world – but as it turns out, some problems just wouldn’t leave us.

As soon as we landed in Jeddah’s airport, our plan was to take a taxi to Makkah and get the Umrah done while we were still gung-ho about God.

What’s this all about?

However, we were instead diverted to our relatives’ house in Jeddah, where we discovered that 4 or 5 of my mothers’ relatives and their families had gathered up and spontaneously crashed in my grandfather’s house for one giant family reunion.

Naturally, my dad and I, as well as my maternal grandfather, were really upset over this development as my mom’s side of the family is full of … for the lack of a more polite word, the shady folks.

Most of them I was on good terms with, but once I realized that my least favorite Uncle and Aunt had come with the crew, my enthusiasm just deflated like a balloon.

For a quick comparison, Uncle Zubair and Aunt Rubina were the Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia of the family to me.

They’d spoil their own kids rotten, be as stingy as they could with me before getting noticed, – and oh, did they love to take advantage of the fact that I couldn’t speak Urdu at all when I was younger – they talked smack about me and made fun of me for all sorts of things, and when my mother brought it up, they simply waved it off as me misunderstanding whatever they said in Urdu, and my mother trusted them.

Sure, I couldn’t speak the language well when I was 8, but I could understand a lot of what they were saying, and just going through all of that really made me intensely dislike them.

Back to 2011, the entire rodeo of relatives comes up with a great plan – let’s go complete our Umrah trip as a group of 23 people! It’ll be a great time!

Let’s make a plan…

Me and my father reluctantly agree to this, and before we head to Makkah, my father makes a little contingency plan for the rare occasion me or my siblings get lost. My mother shares it with the group, and everyone thinks its a good idea.

If someone gets lost, we all return to (i.e.) X floor of the clocktower building and wait for the rest to come. No problems, right?

We go to Makkah, we have dinner in the clocktower hotel, and as I’m getting napkins to clean up after the food, the men split up and abruptly leave for the Kabah. The ladies already had left, and Aunt Rubina still at the table, waiting on the napkins.

When I ask her where all the men went, she smiles and points in the wrong direction, and also tells me twice that our contingency plan got changed, and we were to meet on Y floor if we got lost (instead of the original contingency plan).

Had I been older, I would have noticed something was very wrong with her words, but I was 15 years old and fearful of being left behind, and so I ran off without even doubting her.

They went on a wild goose chase.

The result of her misleading me amounted to: 1 hour of checking out the entire hotel looking for my father and the men, then heading out to the Kabah and spending 3 hours circling the Kabah, distracted and heavily disturbed by the fact that I couldn’t find them anywhere, and then heading back to the “new” contingency plan’s location and crying myself to sleep on a rusty chair because none of the guards understood me, and I honestly thought I was lost for good.

A couple hours later, my father finds me, and he gets violently mad at me for ‘ditching’ the group and going to the wrong floor, but he realizes something’s up as soon as I tell him what Aunt Rubina told me.

The men quickly arrive and hug me out, and when Uncle Zubair hugs me, he grins and asks me “Did you feel the despair?” before laughing it off as I take the next minute to process this man’s words.

The entire group of 23 was just trying to talk to me and see the positives out of the situation on the car ride back, but the whole time I just have one thought on my mind: Did my uncle and aunt really just try to intentionally mislead me and lose me in a large city overseas?

I later tell my parents the whole story, my father’s a little bit unsettled, and the rest of the trip continues with my parents keeping a close eye on me.

Revenge:

Back in 2015, we visited the homeland and met up with all these bozos who were excited to see my “mom’s Amrikan family”, and just as expected, Uncle Zubair and Aunt Rubina are in the mix.

I decided not to say anything about what happened 4 years prior, and I make my mom promise not to say anything about the incident, as she loves to reminisce things.

About an hour into the trip, I realize that my Uncle and Aunt still think I have the same language comprehension I had when I was 8 years old.

This was gonna be good!

Amazing, how they think I’m so stupid – but in 2015 I was finally able to speak and understand Urdu fluently, but I wasn’t just going to tell them that.

With that, I decided that I’d snoop around, and maybe sit through their **** again with a recorder, and show my mom that I was right all along (about them lying to my mom that they weren’t **** talking me).

But this is where things get interesting.

Uncle Zubair takes me along with his son as we visit a couple different apartment and houses he has the keys for, and help him clean out the houses. “My neighbors are out on vacation, and they asked if I could help clean up for them.”

He tells me in his broken English, but I really doubt him between how fervently he’s scouring the entire place and how he’s indiscriminately throwing their belongings in giant trash bags and large rubber containers.

Belongings of neighbors that apparently trusted him enough to leave their spare keys with him as they stayed with relatives in America or elsewhere for the summer.

This was weird…

It was weird and shady, I’d never seen anything like this back in the states, but I connected the dots when on another day, Uncle Zubair’s son called me from one of the said apartments and asked me if I could walk over there and pick him up.

Turns out the house was almost entirely empty of anything the neighbors owned, and my cousin already set a bunch of his own stuff in there, and had the gall to tell me “Papa said this is my apartment now!”

What a riot! My uncle was robbing people of their apartments and houses when they were on vacation.

A week later of some unnoticed eavesdropping, and I learn that Aunt Rubina and my other cousin are doing this same dirty work in the state / province right next to ours.

They had better English and told me that they were going to the other state to help my cousin “study,” and I was just nodding if off. Yeah, go study your lying *** off, as if I didn’t hear you at all 24 hours ago talking about cleaning house preparations.

We’re having dinner later that night with Uncle Zubair and a few other family members, and when there’s a lull in the conversation, he just asks me, “son, what’s your favorite part of the summer so far?” and I just smiled and replied in Urdu.

“I love the real estate work you’ve been doing! Could you help me get a property as well?”

Uh oh!

His face just drains the moment he realizes I knew the **** he’s been pulling, and everyone at the table starts asking questions because my Uncle is the last guy to talk to about house-related matters.

They prompt me for more information, and I just spill what his son said (“Papa said this is my apartment now!”) and what type of bull **** he and his wife were doing 5 towns over, and the next thing I know I’m taking my dinner plate back to my room as the drilling commences in the dining room.

As my family and the rest of the extended relatives finds out, he’s been clearing out apartments of neighbors who went overseas for the entire summer, maybe 10 or so such flats and little houses, and hauling their possession to a storage unit somewhere only God knows.

They got theirs…

The controversy gets really big, a couple homeowners get alerted and chase Aunt Rubina and my cousin out of other town, and it’s not long before my parents told me that our entire family pretty much disowned my Uncle and Aunt’s family for pulling this immoral bull **** when being trusted with peoples’ keys.

In the end, I never was able to stick him with the “Did you feel despair?” line he hit me with back in 2011, but man, am I glad I won’t have to deal with their **** again.”

Take a look at how Reddit users reacted.

This person asked a question…

Another person spoke up.

This Reddit user chimed in.

This individual shared their thoughts.

And one Reddit user was impressed.

Revenge can be so sweet!

If you thought that was an interesting story, check this one out about a man who created a points system for his inheritance, and a family friend ends up getting almost all of it.