17. What Note?

SM! Those are my initials. But I know I didn't write that, it sounds like one of L's note.

I sit at my desk and slowly push my chair back until it hits the wall. I want to get as far away from this note as possible. I prod the note with a pencil just to make sure it's real. It moves an eighth of an inch and I feel my heart jump. My hands start feeling clammy and I feel a chill grab my body. I'm paralyzed and I can't move my body, all I can do it lower my eyes towards the sheet of paper on my desk. As I try to read the words, my eyes start glassing over like I don't want to confront this. I force myself to read the note, but it doesn't sound familiar. It doesn't sound like something I wrote, but it is signed by me, it is on my desk, and it is my handwriting. Suddenly, I have a thought that someone is trying to play a joke on me, but I dismiss it right away because who would do that? Who could even get into my office? This is not a joke. This is real and now I'm really, really afraid. I don't know what this means.

Actually, a theory is forming in my mind, but I try to push it out of my head because I'm afraid to even think these thoughts; I don't want this to be true.

Thanks joe pitz!

I finally summon the courage to pick up the note but I hold it between my thumb and my forefinger at a corner and keep my arm extended like I don't want it to contaminate me. I put the note through the paper shredder and I feel my shoulders relax a little as I hear the satisfying crunch of paper as the note makes its way through the machine and I watch as it ends up as shreds in the bottom of the bin. There, that should settle things. Whatever that was is gone now and I don't need any explanation. I am just going to pretend like it didn't happen.

I'm starting to regret the day I first noticed L's notes.