Woman Returns Home From Work, Finds Naked Homeless Man In Her Bed Story of the Day

Margaret returns home from her night shift at the hospital, not knowing what awaits her. She enters the bedroom and sees a totally naked man who assures her this house belongs to him.

A shiver ran down Margaret's spine as she approached her front door. How could it be slightly ajar when she had locked it before leaving for work?

Margaret carefully pushed open the door and entered, only to find her house in disarray.

Clothes were strewn on the floor, vases were knocked over, and books were scattered about. Margaret's heart skipped a beat, wondering if someone had broken into her home.

She noticed some things were out of place. Her family portrait was titled to one side. Her mother's cherished bowl, always on the coffee table, was now on the dining table.

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Gathering some courage, Margaret decided to inspect the rest of the house. As she approached her bedroom, she heard the sound of someone breathing. She grabbed a vase, then turned the doorknob and entered the room.

Margaret's eyes widened in horror when she saw a naked man in her bed. He was covered in dirt, and his hair was unkempt—he was undoubtedly homeless.

"I'm calling the police! Who are you?" Margaret screamed, and the man was jolted awake.

He sat on the bed and held his head, his fingers brushing against a large bruise on his temple.

"Is this…Green Boulevard, number 53…my home?" he asked, wincing in pain.

"Yes, and no. You got the address right, but this is my house, and you need to leave! And," She threw a towel at him. "Cover yourself!"

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The man became aware of his lack of clothing and covered himself. Then he said, "Call the police. I don't have my phone. They'll sort this out. This is my house."

Margaret was confused. He wanted to call the police after breaking into her home? But she did dial the cops.

When the officers arrived, she showed them her house papers so they were assured the house belonged to her. They escorted the man out of her bedroom, cuffed him, and took him to the station.

Margaret had noticed the man seemed agitated and confused as he was taken away, but she quickly dismissed her thoughts.

The next day, Margaret was driving through the streets when she noticed the same man rummaging through a trash bin. His clothes were ragged, his hair was unkempt, and he looked defeated.

His condition made her uncomfortable. Wasn't he supposed to be home?

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"Hey," she asked, approaching him. "Are you alright? Why aren't you home?"

The man looked at her, startled. "I...I don't know," he said. "After the cops released me, I had nowhere to go. I can't recall anything about myself.

"All I remember is waking up in a field and getting a ride from someone. When I reached what I thought was my home, I learned it wasn't. Everything I had was gone."

Margaret's heart went out to him. "Look, how about you come with me? We'll figure something out. By the way, I'm Margaret."

Margaret drove the man to a police station. While on their way, the man revealed he didn't remember his name, so Margaret assigned him the name 'John,' and he liked it.

Margaret spoke to an officer at the station and asked if they could find something about John's whereabouts. Since there was information about him in the database, the cop suggested issuing a missing person announcement.

Margaret and John agreed that it was the only thing they could do now and left the station. Margaret took John to her house and showed him the guest bedroom.

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The next morning, Margaret took John to a grocery store.

As they started on their way home after the shopping, John noticed something odd—a black sedan was following them.

Margaret told John to remain calm, then took a few turns to see if the car continued to follow them. And it did.

Panicking, Margaret turned into an alleyway where the sedan wouldn't enter. The sedan approached the alley's entrance but drove away minutes later. The alley was too narrow for the sedan's body.

"That was close. Who could be after us?" Margaret wondered aloud.

"Maybe someone from my past," John said.

"Well, for now, they're gone. Let's head home."

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Later that evening, John was alone at home. Margaret was visiting her son at the hospital.

John was sitting in the living room when the distant hum of a car distracted him.

John looked out the living room window and was shocked to spot the same sedan outside. As the engine's growl subsided, a young man exited the car. He scanned the house before approaching the front door. The doorbell rang.

John approached the front door, nervous. "Yes?" he asked.

"My name is Michael. I need to speak with the man living here," came the reply.

John opened the door a crack. "Yes?"

"Hello, Dad," said the man. "I'm your son, Michael."

John's brows furrowed as he tried to recall if he had a son. Michael certainly seemed familiar—some of his features matched John's. But John couldn't recall having a son.

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"Can I come in?" Michael asked, snapping John out of his thoughts.

John reluctantly let him in. They settled in the living room. Michael revealed that John's real name was Anthony. While John tried to press his memory for details, he couldn't recall anything about his past, not even his name.

Margaret returned home at that moment. As she got out of her car, she saw an unknown man in her house through the living room window. She hesitantly approached the window and decided to eavesdrop on his and John's conversation.

"It's OK, Dad," Michael said. "I'm here to take you home. Maybe that'll jog your memory. Here," He pulled out a photograph from his jacket's pocket.

John looked at the image. It was him and Michael posing for a photo at a golf course.

"You loved golf, Dad. Remember?"

"I don't," John said. Then he looked up at Michael and smiled. "But you have kind eyes…eyes I'd like to know."

"You always loved my eyes, Dad. You said I got it from Mom."

"Mom?" John asked, baffled.

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"She passed away a few years ago, Dad," Michael said. "You don't remember any of it?"

Tears sprang into John's eyes. He couldn't recall his wife's passing. He couldn't feel the pain, the love, anything.

"I wish I knew about my identity. How far is our home?" John asked, swallowing his tears.

"Not far. Let's go?"

John nodded. "Wait a second. I'll be right back."

John went to the kitchen to pen a note for Margaret. "Dear Margaret, thank you for everything," he began. "You never made me feel like a stranger…"

John finished the note and left it under the vase on the kitchen counter. Then he entered the living room, only to be shocked by the sight.

Michael stood in the room, aiming a gun at John.

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"It's time to correct the past mistakes, Dad," he said with a wicked smile. "I failed the first time. But this time, nothing will go wrong…"

Margaret's jaw dropped as she witnessed what was happening inside her house. She had to act fast. She quietly approached her front door, unlocked it, and entered her house. She made sure not to make a noise as she grabbed a heavy vase next to the door.

While Michael was going on and on about how he wanted to kill John, she carefully approached Michael, signaling John to keep quiet. As she stood right behind Michael, she raised the vase and swung it at Michael's head with full force. The young man crumpled to the ground, out cold.

Margaret placed the gun away, then dialed the cops.

An hour later, Michael sat in the interrogation room while Margaret and John/Anthony sat in the station awaiting an update from the cops. John wanted to know Michael's story and why he took such an extreme step, such as planning his murder.

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Back in the interrogation room, Michael realized he couldn't escape the consequences of his actions. So he told the cops his story.

Michael wanted to inherit his dad's business. But John was against it and wanted Michael to make a name for himself. They had an argument, and Michael angrily told John how he was ruining their family.

"And that's when he…he decided to leave the room. I wasn't thinking straight. I had told him he would regret what he was doing. I grabbed a crowbar that happened to be nearby, and I struck him in the head.

"When I saw him fall to the ground, motionless and covered in blood, I panicked…So, I dragged him to the nearby field and left him there, thinking he was gone. I found him through the missing announcement."

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When John learned the whole story, he was in tears. Because he didn't know how he had ended up at Margaret's house, what happened after he left the fields was a mystery to everyone. However, John was right about the fact that he lived at Green Boulevard, 53. The same address existed in the neighboring town.

"And this is the image…" The cop showed him and Margaret a picture of his house. And their house did look almost identical.

"Because of your head trauma, you can't recall most of your life, sir. But at least you'll be home. One of our officers will drive you," finished the cop.

John was distraught by what his own son had done, but Michael deserved to be punished. John bid goodbye to Margaret and left with a cop.

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A few days later, Margaret was at the hospital. Little Jamie stood beside her, clutching her hand.

Margaret had just approached the reception to pay her son's bills when Jamie's doctor, Dr. Ramsey, stopped her.

The doctor's smile widened, "I have some good news. Someone has taken care of all the expenses for Jamie's treatment."

Margaret blinked in surprise. "What? Who?"

With a playful glint in his eye, Dr. Ramsey subtly pointed towards the waiting area. There, Margaret saw Anthony. He was sharply dressed. He was almost unrecognizable, and he looked…handsome.

"Is that the man from your house, Mom?" Jamie asked.

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"Yes, Jamie. That's Anthony," she replied softly.

"He looks like a businessman from the movies!" Jamie chuckled as they approached Anthony.

"Anthony," Margaret began, searching for words, "I... I don't know how to thank you."

Anthony smiled. "Consider it a small token of gratitude for what you did for me. Without your help, who knows where I'd be now."

She shook her head in disbelief. "But this is... it's too much."

"Nothing is too much for someone who showed kindness when I needed it most," Anthony replied earnestly.

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Looking up at Anthony, Jamie's eyes sparkled, "Thank you, Mister."

Anthony knelt to Jamie's level. "You're welcome, champ. Just promise me you'll get better soon and maybe teach me one of those video games you kids play?"

Jamie giggled, "Deal!"

As Jamie wandered to a nearby play area, Margaret and Anthony found a quiet corner.

"So, what now?" Margaret asked him. "What happens to the wealthy businessman with a second chance at life?"

"Well, first, I must rebuild the broken bridges with my family. And second," he said, turning to face Margaret squarely, "I was hoping to get to know the kind woman who saved me better. Would you consider going out on a date with me?"

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"A date? With you?" Margaret blushed.

He grinned. "Yes, I promise not to show up unannounced at your house this time."

She laughed, the sound echoing warmly in the corridor, "Alright, Anthony. It's a date."

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