It was just after 10 p.m. when I returned to my car after grabbing a late coffee. The parking lot was nearly empty, and the streetlights flickered, casting long shadows across the asphalt. That’s when I saw it—a small, folded piece of paper tucked under my windshield wiper.
I pulled it out, my curiosity piqued. Written in messy handwriting were the words:
“You’re in danger. Don’t ignore this.”
I laughed nervously. “Yeah, right. Like someone knows me,” I muttered, tossing it into the glove compartment.
Hours later, as I tried to sleep, a loud crash jolted me awake. My apartment door had been forced open. I froze, heart pounding, every nerve on fire. I grabbed my phone, but my hands were shaking too much to dial 911.
Then I remembered the note. The warning. Someone had been trying to protect me. My mind raced as I crouched behind the couch, listening. Footsteps. Quiet whispers. And then—silence.
When the police finally arrived, they found evidence that the intruder had been inside, rifling through my things. Had I ignored the note, I don’t even want to imagine what could have happened.
The next day, I went back to the parking lot, hoping to find a clue about who left the note. In the cracks of the asphalt, I found another piece of paper:
“You survived tonight. Be careful tomorrow.”
I realized then—sometimes strangers are watching out for you. And sometimes, ignoring a warning can almost cost you everything.
