A Scrap Of Paper

I stayed in bed for the next few days scared to go out or talk to anyone. Only after all the food in the house was gone and all I had left was tap water to sustain life did I venture out. I washed in the morning to find a pale, tired face looking back from the mirror with dark bags under my eyes. I made it down to the corner shop, picked up some provisions and came straight back to my flat. I’d made it…..no one had tried to kill me. Maybe this is all in my mind after all.

As I closed my door I noticed a folded up note on the carpet. I didn’t remember that being there when I left. A chill started to creep through me once again. I bent down, picked up the note and unfolded it.

Written in large hand writing I read, “DDC 575.63”.