A Warning

It starts with a name: Thomas.

But by the time you’re halfway through the first paragraph, you start wondering if it’s really for him—or if you’re just the next unlucky soul to pick it up.

The writer claims they didn’t want to send this. That they hesitated. That something is wrong. And by the time you reach the final page, where the words DO NOT IGNORE THIS are stamped with a frantic urgency, you might find yourself glancing over your shoulder.

What shadows stretch too far where you live?
What hesitation has been creeping in when you step forward?

It’s probably nothing. Probably.
Unless it isn’t.

I wrote it down so I could let it go,
— Elsie Thorne

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Transcription:

Front Page:

Thomas,
I did not want to send this.
I told myself you would not believe me, that you would read these words and scoff or laugh or just ignore them entirely. But if you have made it this far, if your hands are holding this letter, then perhaps something inside you already knows.

Something is wrong. You have felt it, haven’t you? In the way shadows seem to stretch where they should not. In the way you hesitate before stepping forward, before…

No. I have already said too much. 

Back Page:

But you need to understand
D O N O T I G N O R E T H I S!
This is the only warning you will receive.

— E