Interrupting our holiday due to my wife feeling unwell, we returned home earlier than expected. While she was resting, I decided to check the house and yard to make sure everything was as we had left it.
Stepping into the back garden, I froze in bewilderment. In the middle of the yard, a huge hole had been dug, surrounded by loose dirt and a half-submerged shovel. Next to the hole was a fresh bottle of water and several different tools. My first impulse was to call the police — someone had clearly trespassed on the property.
But then a chilling thought struck me: What if the person digging this hole wasn’t finished yet? What if they came back, thinking we were still on holiday?
I decided to pretend we weren’t back yet. I parked the car in the garage, turned off all the lights, and waited.
That night, as I had expected, I saw a shadowy figure climb over the fence and head for the hole. I held my breath as I watched the man crouch down, pull on gloves and jump into the hole.
I quietly left the house with a torch in my hand. My heart was pounding as I approached the hole. ‘Hey!’ I shouted, and the beam of light cut through the darkness.
I-Came-Home-from-Vacation-to-Find-a-Huge-Hole-Dug-in-My-Backyard1
The figure froze, then slowly turned to face me. My jaw dropped when I saw who it was — my neighbour, Paul.
‘Paul? What the hell are you doing in my backyard?’ I demanded.
He looked panicked, his face pale in the light of the lantern. ‘I… I can explain!’ he stammered.
‘Start talking,’ I said, folding my arms.
Paul climbed out of the hole, brushing the dirt off his clothes. ‘Okay, this is going to sound crazy, but… I think there’s something buried here. Something valuable.’
‘Excuse me?’
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “When you said you were going on holiday, I remembered a story my grandfather told me. He said there used to be an old mansion on this land, long before our neighbourhood was built. He swore that the family who lived here buried a chest full of gold somewhere in the yard before fleeing during the war.”
I blinked, trying to process what I had heard. ‘And you decided that gave you the right to dig up my yard without asking?’
‘I didn’t think you’d believe me!’ Paul said defensively. ‘I thought I’d check while you were away, and if I found anything, I’d share it with you. I wasn’t trying to steal or anything like that!’
I stared at him, torn between anger and disbelief. ‘Paul, this is crazy. You can’t just sneak onto someone’s property and start digging based on some family history!’
‘I know, I know,’ he said, raising his hands. ‘I just… I thought that if it was true, it could change everything. I have mortgage payments, and I was desperate. I wasn’t thinking straight.’
His confession softened me a little. But this was still my yard, my property, and he had crossed a serious line.
‘Here’s what’s going to happen,’ I said firmly. ‘Tonight, you’re going to fill that hole back in. Then we’re going to have a serious talk about boundaries. And if you ever do anything like this again, I’m calling the police. Understood?’
Paul nodded quickly, clearly relieved that I hadn’t dialled 911 yet. ‘I understand. I’m really sorry, mate. I’ll fix it.’
The next morning, I watched as Paul filled in the hole and smoothed out the dirt. True to his word, he apologised again and offered to help me replant the grass.
Over the next few weeks, I couldn’t help but wonder if there really was something buried in the yard. But no treasure was worth losing the trust of my neighbours or my sanity.
In the end, Paul learned a hard lesson about respecting boundaries, and I made it clear that my yard was not a treasure map for his fantasies. Sometimes it’s better to leave the past buried where it belongs.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but is fictionalised for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
