I arrived home, utterly tired after a grueling day at work and an endless slog through rush-hour traffic. I barely managed to park my car when I noticed my neighbour waving from across the street.

“Hey!” he called out. “Can you come over for a minute?”

Sighing, I trudged over. He explained that he had received a package intended for me, and with all the recent reports of theft of packages in the neighbourhood, he wanted to make sure it was safe. Grateful, I thanked him and told him, “I owe you a favour.”

He grinned, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “You bet!”

That phrase sent a shiver down my spine. The last time I’d owed him a favour, his mother-in-law stayed in my house for a week, leaving me traumatized by her constant critiques of my décor. But I shook off the unease and went inside.

Later that night, while winding down, I glanced out my window and froze. Through the neighbour’s lit window, I saw him with a woman, both swaying to soft music. They seemed to be dancing—until he suddenly hit her over the head.

She fell, crumpling to the ground.

My heart raced as I watched, horrified. The woman stayed down, unmoving. Was my neighbour a murderer? I saw him drag her body out of sight. Panicked, I slammed my curtains shut, turned off the lights, my mind spinning with what I’d just witnessed.

Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock on my door.

I didn’t move.

Another knock came.

I stayed perfectly still, barely breathing.

Then, his voice called out. “Hey, it’s me. I need your help!”

I didn’t respond.

“I know you’re in there,” he added. “I saw your lights on.”

I couldn’t believe this. Was he here to collect the favour I owed him? Did he want me to help hide the body?

I clenched my fists, my thoughts spiraling.

“Look,” he continued. “My mother’s coming to visit tomorrow, and I need you to keep something at your house. Just for two days. Tops.”

Two days? What could he possibly want me to store? The body?!

I finally lost it and shouted, “I’m not keeping that body in here!”

There was silence outside, but I swear I heard a chuckle. Sick bastard! Then he said, “It was an accident!”

I snapped back, “Yeah, accident was your mother giving birth to you, man!”

“Not nice,” he muttered. “But you owe me, and I’m going to collect. One way or another.”

Fear surged through me. Grabbing a kitchen knife, I flung the front door open, determined to end this nightmare.

But instead of my murderous neighbour dragging a corpse, I was greeted by his roaring laughter. Standing next to him, very much alive, was the woman from earlier, grinning ear to ear, recording everything on her smartphone.

“You really fell for that one!” she said, giggling.

Still clutching the knife, I stared at them, dumbfounded.

“April Fool’s,” my neighbour said with a wink, though it was January.

I closed the door in their faces, swearing to myself that I’d never owe him, or any other human being, any favours as long as I lived.

B2 Level:

After a long, exhausting day at work and a stressful drive through rush-hour traffic, I finally arrived home. I had barely parked my car when I noticed my neighbor waving at me from across the street.

“Hey!” he called out. “Can you come over for a second?”

With a sigh, I walked over. He explained that a package meant for me had been delivered to his house. Concerned about recent package thefts in the neighborhood, he wanted to make sure I got it safely. Relieved, I thanked him and said, “I owe you one.”

He smiled, a mischievous glint in his eye. “You bet!”

That phrase sent a chill through me. The last time I’d owed him a favor, his mother-in-law had stayed at my house for a week, constantly criticizing my décor and leaving me frazzled. I shook off the memory and went inside, trying to relax.

Later that evening, while unwinding, I glanced out my window and froze. Through the glow of my neighbor’s window, I saw him dancing with a woman to soft music. It seemed sweet until he suddenly hit her over the head.

She collapsed.

My heart pounded as I watched him drag her limp body out of sight. Horrified, I slammed my curtains shut, turned off the lights, and stood there, trembling.

Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock at my door.

I didn’t move.

The knock came again, louder this time.

“Hey, it’s me,” my neighbor’s voice called out. “I need your help!”

I stayed frozen, barely breathing.

“I know you’re home,” he continued. “I saw your lights earlier.”

I couldn’t believe it. Was he here to collect the favor I owed him? Did he want me to help hide the body?

He added, “Look, my mom’s coming tomorrow, and I need you to keep something at your house. Just for two days. Tops.”

My mind spiraled. Two days? Was he talking about the body?!

I finally yelled, “I’m not keeping that body in here!”

Silence. Then I heard what sounded like a chuckle.

“It was an accident!” he said.

I snapped, “Yeah, accident was your mom having you, man!”

“Not cool,” he muttered. “But you owe me, and I’ll collect. One way or another.”

Terrified, I grabbed a kitchen knife, flung the door open, and prepared for the worst.

But there he was, laughing hysterically. Beside him stood the woman from earlier, perfectly fine and holding a smartphone, recording everything.

“You really fell for it!” she said, giggling.

“April Fool’s,” my neighbor added, winking—despite it being January.

Still clutching the knife, I slammed the door shut. Swearing to myself, I vowed never to owe him, or anyone else, a favor again.

A2 Level:

After a long and tiring day at work and a busy drive through traffic, I got home. I had just parked my car when I saw my neighbor waving from across the street.

“Hey!” he called. “Can you come here for a minute?”

I sighed and walked over. He told me he had a package for me. It was sent to his house by mistake, and he didn’t want anyone to steal it. I thanked him and said, “I owe you a favor.”

He smiled and said, “You bet!”

That made me nervous. The last time I owed him, his mother-in-law stayed at my house for a week. She complained about everything, and I was so stressed. But I went inside, trying to relax.

Later, I looked out my window and froze. I saw my neighbor dancing with a woman in his living room. At first, it looked nice. But then he hit her on the head!

She fell to the ground and didn’t move.

My heart raced as I watched him drag her out of sight. I quickly closed my curtains, turned off the lights, and stood still, terrified.

After 15 minutes, someone knocked on my door.

I didn’t move.

The knock came again.

“Hey, it’s me,” my neighbor called. “I need your help!”

I didn’t answer.

“I know you’re there,” he said. “I saw your lights on earlier.”

I couldn’t believe it. Was he here to make me help him? Did he want me to hide the body?

“My mom is coming tomorrow,” he continued. “I need you to keep something at your house for two days.”

I panicked. Was he talking about the body?

I shouted, “I’m not keeping that body here!”

There was silence, then a laugh.

“It was an accident!” he said.

I yelled, “Yeah, your mom having you was an accident too!”

“That’s not nice,” he replied. “But you owe me a favor, and I’m going to collect it.”

Scared, I grabbed a knife, opened the door, and got ready to fight.

But instead of trouble, my neighbor stood there laughing. The woman was with him, perfectly fine and holding her phone to record me.

“You believed it!” she said, laughing.

“April Fool’s,” my neighbor said, even though it wasn’t April.

I slammed the door shut. I promised myself I’d never owe him—or anyone—a favor again.