Don't Say A Word

At the end.... at the end.... I kept repeating this sentence to myself until the words almost lost meaning. I couldn't seem to make any sense of it. What did it mean and why was it in my locker? I looked again at the tiny piece of paper that was now lying on the table in front of me. The three words had been scribbled onto the paper in black ink and looked almost as if the person that had been writing them were in a hurry to get somewhere. I didn't understand. I wanted to tell myself that it was just some silly prank but something inside of me knew better.
This may seem like a normal town where nothing really happens. The truth is that things happen, the people here are just really good at keeping secrets. I was totally clueless about what was going on until my best friend Alisa disappeared last summer. The cops didn’t do much to find her and soon gave up, she seamed to have just vanished into thin air without leaving the smallest little clue. I couldn’t handle not knowing what had happened so I decided to find out for myself.
I went back to looking at the piece of paper. My mind kept coming back to the thought that maybe this had something to do with her. That’s impossible I thought to myself, nobody really knows about what I am doing. Even if they did I think that they would be more interested in trying to stop me than in helping me. I flipped the paper over and over as if I looked at it long enough, something would appear that would explain what was going on. If somebody really was trying to help me, how much help did they think three words would be?
I was surprised at how this little piece of paper drove me so crazy. I wanted to get up and throw it into the garbage can and never think about it again but I knew that I couldn’t. I had to know what it meant. I decided that it would just have to wait until I finished my homework. My science teacher seemed to think that she was clever by making us write weekly 2 page reports on what we learned in her science class that week. She thought that by doing this she would find out who wasn’t paying attention in her class when the truth was that everybody just copied off of each other.
As I entered my room, I looked around for a good place to put the small piece of paper so that I wouldn’t lose it. I decided to put it in one of my mothers old math books that she kept from college and felt obligated to give to me. It just sits on the shelf in my closet where it continues to remain unopened, so naturally it was the perfect place to keep something where it wouldn’t be messed with.
I pulled the book carefully off the shelf and slipped the piece of paper between the pages. Then I returned the book back to it’s spot on the dusty shelf and shut my closet door. I walked over to my bed where I had set my backpack. My backpack is a plain white messenger bag with a simple pocket on the front which looked rather odd sitting next to my bright multi-colored ‘60s comforter that my mother let me pick out when I was 13.
I pulled out my science binder with all of my class notes from the week and began to skim through them for ideas about what to write in my report. As I finished looking through my third page of notes I decided to just wing it because I didn’t want to read anymore notes. I sat down at my computer and began to type. I’ve always been good at writing things and after writing so many of the reports before, I had a pretty good idea of what she wanted me to write. I completed the report in about twenty minutes which was the fastest I had written one so far. Before I started to print the paper, I decided to look through my notes really quick to see if there was something I had missed.
I began to read the first page when I noticed a light blue piece of paper in the pile. I never write on blue paper so I had no idea where it had come from. I slowly pulled it out and placed it on top off the pile. As I read through the writing I realized that I had seen the handwriting somewhere before but I couldn’t figure out where. Then it hit me. I ran over to the the closet and flung the doors open. I snatched the book down off of the shelf and began flipping through the pages as fast I could trying to find the small piece of paper I had left in it earlier.
When I found the piece of paper, I grabbed it and ran over to my desk where I had left my notes. I picked up the blue paper and compared the writing. It was the same writing on both papers. Then I realized that they were both the same light shade of blue.I read through the larger paper. It was just simple science notes like the ones that I had written. I started thinking about all the people in my class. Most of them didn’t even take notes and the ones that did never wrote on blue paper.
I set the papers down and lay back on my bed to try and think. I lay there in silence for about 5 minutes when I heard my mom calling me. “What is it mom?” I yelled, not wanting to get up. “Pick up the phone!” she replied, “It’s for you!”.
I walked over to the black phone sitting on my old wooden night stand. I had received the phone six years ago and was surprised that it still worked. i didn’t really want to talk to anybody right now. It’s probably Kyle calling to ask me if I could help him with his science report. I picked up the phone, “hello?”.

“Hi, is this Lynn?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

“Are you alone?”

“Um....Who is this? Kyle? This isn’t funny!”
“
This isn’t Kyle. Look, I really need to talk to you.”

“ If this isn’t Kyle then who is it?”

Click. I heard the phone on the other end hang up and the line went dead.
To be continued............