He didn’t know where it came from.
That’s what bothered him the most.
Because he was sure…
100% sure…
It wasn’t there before.
The notebook was on his desk.
Simple.
Old.
Nothing special about it.
No name.
No label.
Just… there.
He stared at it for a moment.
Trying to remember.
“Did I buy this?”
No.
“Did someone leave it?”
No.
It didn’t belong.
But it existed.
Right in front of him.
He picked it up slowly.
The cover felt worn.
Used.
Like it had been opened many times.
But not by him.
He hesitated.
Then opened it.
The first page…
Was filled with writing.
Neat.
Clear.
He read the first line.
“He woke up late again.”
His chest tightened.
That was… today.
Exactly what happened.
He frowned.
Turned the page.
More writing.
Detailed.
Too detailed.
“He checked his phone and ignored the message.”
His heart slowed.
“That’s exactly what I did…”
He kept reading.
Every line…
Matched his day.
Perfectly.
Not close.
Exact.
His hands started shaking.
“This isn’t possible…”
He flipped forward.
More pages.
More events.
All real.
All his life.
Moments he remembered.
Things he forgot.
Even small details…
He never told anyone.
Written.
Clear.
Like someone had been watching him.
For a long time.
He closed the notebook quickly.
Breathing heavily.
“This is a joke…”
“It has to be…”
But deep down…
He knew.
This wasn’t random.
He opened it again.
Slowly.
Skipped pages.
Went further.
Toward the end.
His heart was pounding now.
Because this part…
He didn’t know yet.
Future.
He swallowed.
Then read the next line.
“He will look up now.”
His breath stopped.
Slowly…
Without thinking…
He lifted his head.
Looked around.
Nothing.
Silence.
His heart slammed in his chest.
“It predicted that…”
He turned back to the page.
Hands shaking.
Next line:
“He feels scared.”
His chest tightened.
“This is insane…”
Next line:
“He is about to turn the page again.”
He froze.
Because he was.
Exactly.
At that moment.
He looked at his hand.
Hovering over the page.
He slowly pulled it back.
“No…”
“I’m not doing that.”
Silence.
For the first time…
He made a choice.
Something the notebook didn’t predict.
Or so he thought.
Slowly…
He flipped the page anyway.
His heart racing.
And saw the next line.
“He thought he had a choice.”
Everything went silent.
Cold.
Still.
And in that moment…
He understood something terrifying:
He wasn’t reading the notebook.
The notebook…
Was reading him.
