Maya

I was ready to get away from all the incessant chatter of everybody loading onto the train. Say your goodbyes and be done with it, other people have places to be and would enjoy some peace and quiet. I quickly hop onto the train and push my way through all the people cluttering up the front. Finally, I make it past the main car and into the one that houses the private rooms. It is a lot quieter here since most have already gone into their rooms.

Quickly I shuffle my way down the narrow hallway looking at the door numbers. As I get to the end, I find mine. It is the last room before the car ends and opens to another. I quickly slide open the door and go inside. Lifting my bags and setting them in the overhead compartments, I take my seat when out of the corner of my eyes I see a speck of black. I look over confused. I had booked this room for just me, so nobody else’s things should be occupying it. But, there sitting next to me in the seat was a little black notebook. It was the size of my hand with a smooth leather cover. I hesitantly reach over and pick it up. Whose is this? Slowly I opened up the cover, the soft leather bending under the will of my fingers, gently folding back to reveal the creamy blank pages hidden underneath. How odd, I thought. A little black notebook that was completely blank. I thumb through the pages unable to resist the temptation of feeling the still pages flutter across the surface of my thumb. I can hardly pick up a book without doing it. As I thumb through it though I see a flash of ink. Well, that is curious, isn’t it? I quickly go back through the pages, flipping one by one so as not to miss the little spot of ink again. Knock, knock. I startle and drop the notebook, the train attendant stands by the door expectantly, looking apologetic for startling me. I was so distracted looking into the notebook I hadn’t realized it was almost time for the train to pull out.

“Ticket?” He asked politely, “Oh, yes give me a second.” I murmured in reply, slightly embarrassed to be caught off guard. I reach into my pocket and pull out my ticket. Handing it to him, he smiles as he grabs and inspects it.

“Good book I suppose?”, I look at him confused for a second when it clicks for me. “Um, oh yes, good book,” I say quietly. Finally, deeming it to be a real ticket, he hands it back to me freshly punched, gives a slight nod, and quietly slides the door shut once more. My heart is racing, though I don’t know why. It’s just an empty notebook. I glance down, there laying on the floor closed perfectly perched by my feet, the notebook.

Slowly I pick it up and start thumbing through the pages again. Finally, halfway through the notebook I get a glimpse of ink as my thumb pushes a page away. Slowly the little sentence reveals itself.

Good evening, Maya.

Perfect penmanship, writing such a simple yet horrifying sentence. Maya, but that was my name, and the notebook was in my room. Could this be a coincidence? I don’t even want to think about it. I snap the notebook shut and throw it across to the opposite seat. My heart racing in my chest and my hands trembling I grab my water bottle from my bag and take a couple gulps.

Finally the train pulled into the next station and I hastily grab my bags, giving the little black notebook one final look sitting in the seat. Leaving the station, I quickly grab a taxi and head to my apartment. Good evening, Maya. That was just a coincidence right? But, it just doesn’t make sense. How did the notebook get there, who put it there? I’m so confused and uncomfortable, I just want to get back to my place and relax. I don’t want to think about the little black notebook which had held me captive, yet scared me.

Objectively speaking, I don’t know why I feel so afraid. I just know that every time it crosses my mind, I feel this swelling in my throat. Like a scream that just wants to crawl its way out and make itself known. Finally the taxi pulls up to my apartment. I throw some cash the driver’s way, quickly getting out, grabbing my bags and rushing to the front door. I walk quickly inside heading straight for the elevator. The whole time I feel tense. Throughout the entire train ride I could barely focus on anything, I’d tried reading and listening to music but I kept thinking about the notebook. There’s a story there and I want to know what it is as much as I want nothing to do with it.

The elevator dings so I step out and make my way to my door. As I unlock the door and walk inside I feel a small sense of relief. Like I’m safe and nothing can get me as long I’m inside my own personal place. I close the door and proceed to lock it. Dragging my bags into my room I internally debate unpacking now or pushing it off until later. It wasn’t necessarily late, but I was feeling a little tired. I walk into my room, flip the light switch on, and there gently perched on my pillow like it was the most natural thing in the world, sits the little black notebook I had left on the train seat.

I slowly lower all my bags to the floor, the thud of them landing sounding distant. Cautiously I walk over to the notebook. I reach my arm out and grab it. My eyes never leaving the innocent looking thing. My other hand raises, trembling and opens the cover. This time, unlike the last, I don’t have to thumb through half the notebook to find writing. This time it’s on the front page.

I’m hurt Maya, you left me…

Once again the same perfect penmanship is scrawled across the creamy page. My shaky thumb pushes the page and I catch another glimpse of ink. I turn the page to find another perfectly written sentence.

I have a gift for you Maya…

I turn the page again.

Don’t be afraid.

I turn the next page, and the next, and all blank. I go through the whole notebook and every page is as pure as the last. Even the original sprawl of ink that first called me was gone. I snap the notebook shut again and go to my balcony. Pushing the sliding glass door open I quickly run to the edge of the balcony and page by page rip out each cream sheet and throw them off the balcony. Eventually I reach the point where only the cover is left and throw that off too. I let out a deep breath.

“There it’s destroyed, it’s gone.” I whisper to myself. I feel like I have to at least say it out loud. Like I have to put it out into the universe to be heard and acknowledged. It has been destroyed so it can not come back!

Hastily I go back inside closing the balcony door, snapping the curtains closed behind me. I go back to my room, quickly unpack, and get ready for bed. Although it was still early, my minor tiredness from earlier seems to have tripled in size, dealing with the stress that was the notebook. I quickly check all the locks, shut all the lights off, and crawl into bed whispering to myself as I fall asleep “tomorrow is a new day, tomorrow is a new day, tomorrow is a new day…”

Waking up the next morning to the sun shining on my face, I crack open my eyes and peak around my room. I let out a breath, I’m finally home. I had spent the last few days visiting my parents and siblings, and as much as I loved them, they exhausted me. I was happy to once again be away from all the hustle and bustle that was having so many people in one house. I much preferred the isolation of living by myself. Turning over I lay there for a bit staring at the ceiling, collecting my thoughts. Slowly I drag the covers off my body with my feet until I’m laying uncovered in just my pajamas and completely exposed to the air. I flop out of bed and slowly drag myself to the kitchen.

Opening the cabinet I grab a mug and proceed to pour water into it. I go to place it in the microwave when out of the corner of my eye I see it. Slowly setting my mug down I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Please don’t be what I think that is, be mail that I forgot about.

I turn around and there it is once again. The evil little black notebook that followed me home from the train and now has somehow managed to put itself back together and climb up six stories. I should have burned it. I walk over and pick it up, taking a deep breath as I open it.

Ouch Maya… that hurt…

I turn the page.

Don’t you want to know what your gift is?

Next page.

Well I guess I’ll tell you… even though you had been very rude.

To you, my dear Maya, I gift…

Blank.

The next page was just blank, and the next, and the next, and the next, all the way to the back cover. Suddenly there was a knock on my door. I jump my heart racing in my chest and my ears ringing. I shakily stumble to the door, leaving the notebook to sit on the table once again. Who could it be? I don’t know anybody that would just randomly pop by. I look through the peephole still trembling. I place my hand on the door to give me some stability, and glance back at the notebook still laying on my kitchen table. Looking back at the door I take a deep breath and place my hand on the knob. Squeezing it, my palms slick with nervous sweat. I slowly open the door and pop my head out. Empty. Nobody was there. I look to my left and right confused. Then I look down and there eloquently placed, a white envelope.

I reach down. The front was addressed to me. Maya, scrawled across the front in eerily similar handwriting to the one that graced the notebook. I slip my thumb under the seal, prying it open, my hands still shaky, I jerk at the last second and a small slip of paper falls out. Gently floating to the floor.

It flutters as it falls, gracefully, like it has all the time in the world to show off how beautifully it can fall and land. Like gravity was just a thing it invented just to please itself and aid its own decent. I bend down and pick up the paper. It crinkles just slightly as I do. The paper instead of bending gets caught in its own self and causes a slight dent. For a second I feel a flash of guilt for marring its pure self, but I quickly get over it. Flipping over the slip I suck in a harsh breath as I read what is printed in perfect penmanship across the black line on the mysterious check.

Congratulations Maya, you have just won $20,000.

The End.