I almost threw it away. It was just a folded piece of printer paper tucked under my windshield wiper when I left work Tuesday night. No name. No explanation. Just: DON’T GO HOME TONIGHT. TRUST ME. My first thought was that it was some stupid prank. My second thought was that someone had been watching me. I sat in my car for probably five minutes trying to decide what to do. Eventually, I laughed it off. I drove home. About three blocks from my apartment, I got a phone call from an unknown number. I answered. Nobody spoke. I said, “Hello?” Silence. Then the line went dead. I pulled into my apartment complex and noticed something strange. My front door was slightly open. I always lock it. Always. I didn't get out of the car. Instead, I called my landlord. He lived in the building next door, so he came over with a flashlight and his spare key. We opened the door together. Nothing looked stolen. Laptop still there. TV still there. Wallet on the kitchen counter. Everything normal. Except for one thing. My bedroom window was open. I live on the third floor. The window has a screen, and the screen was pushed outward. My landlord called the police. While we waited, I went back outside. That's when I noticed something underneath my windshield wiper. Another note. This one was handwritten. It said: “I told you not to go home.” At that point I completely lost it. The police searched the apartment and found nobody. They checked the windows, the balcony, the hallway. Nothing. They eventually told me someone could have entered through the window, but there wasn't enough evidence to determine who. I stayed at my friend's place that night. The next morning, my landlord called me. He sounded confused. He asked if I had recently changed my Wi-Fi password. I said no. He said, “That's strange.” Apparently, someone had connected to my apartment's Wi-Fi at 3:17 AM. While I was at my friend's house. I asked him how he knew. He said the router logs showed a device connected with the name: “Dad's iPhone.” My dad died six years ago. I thought that was the end of it. Until yesterday. I finally went back to my apartment. There was a package waiting outside my door. No shipping label. Inside was an old photograph of me and my dad. On the back, in my dad's handwriting, were six words: “You were never supposed to find this.” I have no idea who is doing this. But tonight, someone slid another note under my door. I haven't opened it yet. submitted by /u/goddessmiller7 [link] [comments]
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