One day I decided not to take the sleeping pill my wife and my brother were giving me, to find out what they were doing while I slept: what I saw filled me with real terror 😱🫣

I’m 65 years old, and for the past few months I had been sleeping very poorly. The doctor prescribed me a strong sleeping medication, without which I couldn’t fall asleep. With those pills, I fell into such a deep sleep that in the morning I barely understood what was happening around me. My wife always made sure I took my dose, and my brother — who had been living with us since his own wife passed away — kept repeating that I needed “deep, proper rest.”

But over time, their care began to seem strange. They insisted too much, watched my every move far too carefully. And one evening, I simply forgot to bring water to the bedroom and went to the kitchen.

When I walked in, my wife and my brother jumped away from each other abruptly, as if I had caught them doing something forbidden.

— Why aren’t you asleep? — she asked, far too tensely.

— I forgot my water, — I said.

I went back to the bedroom, but sleep wouldn’t come. Their fear had been too obvious. I realized: they were hiding something, and it had to do with me.

The next night, I decided to pretend I had taken the pills and was already asleep. I lay down, waited for them to leave the room, then quietly got up and stepped into the hallway. I walked toward the kitchen and peeked inside carefully.

And what I saw there sent a cold shock through me. 😱🫣 Continued in the first comment 👇👇

My wife and my brother were sitting at the table, but they weren’t drinking tea or discussing everyday matters, as I would have expected. On the table were documents and a thick folder with a label on it. My wife was nervously flipping through the papers, her hands trembling, while my brother whispered something to her and pointed at specific lines.

But the most horrifying part wasn’t that. They were talking about me.

— How much longer do you think he’ll hold on? — my wife asked, looking at my brother. — Are you sure those pills are making him weaker and not stronger?

— I’m sure, — he replied. — It’s getting harder and harder for him to wake up. We need to finish everything before he starts to suspect anything.

A cold chill ran through me. Finish what?

My wife opened another folder. I squinted and almost screamed — inside was a copy of my will, the one I had signed years ago. And next to it was a new document — a forgery. The signature was mine, but clearly not written by me.

— Tomorrow we’ll show the new version to the notary. He’ll believe it, — my brother said. — We’ll tell him his condition has worsened and he asked me to help him finalize everything.

— The most important thing is that he doesn’t start resisting, — my wife added. — Did you see him yesterday when he walked in? I thought he realized we were preparing something.

My legs nearly gave out. I understood: they wanted to take the house, the savings, and my pension.

And then my wife asked the question that confirmed my worst fears:

— Are you sure his heart can handle it if we keep giving him the double dose?

— It’s not supposed to handle it, — my brother answered quietly. — It’s his own fault for living this long.

I felt everything inside me freeze. I backed away from the door slowly, holding my breath. They didn’t just want to deceive me — they wanted to kill me, under the guise of “treatment.”

I went back to the bedroom, lay down, and pulled the blanket over myself, pretending to sleep, when I heard their steps approaching. My wife quietly opened the door, walked to the nightstand, and placed a glass of water with the dissolved medicine on it.

— Let him sleep deeply, — she whispered. — It won’t be much longer now.