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It was the first time I’ve ever seen a Facebook ad for a missing person

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When I was about to die, my life didn’t flash before my eyes.

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The paper — the bottle — even the smooth archaic penmanship, all seeming ancient and untampered with. So what were the chances that it would be addressed to someone else with my name?

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My arms and legs began to sway back and forth in the casket that I laid in. White satin linens held my body, the body that this man thought was deceased.

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“She’s going to be a hot and fast sale.” 

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It started with itching. I felt my hand migrating into my jeans whenever I was driving or drawing out documents at work.

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I felt my chest cave in at the sight.

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Looking back, I should not have let it update. Not on May 30th. Not on Loomis Day.

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I never thought anything of the sounds. I never realized where they were coming from, what they really meant.

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How the hell did she break into my house?