Status: On hiatus (the fancy word for ‘I don’t know what to do’
Sincerely, Detective Otter
Prologue
It was the third note this week.
This weird note-exchange had been going on since the beginning of the school year. For the first few weeks it was different every time, but now it was the same request: to play a cassette tape left with the thirty-first note.
Seriously, did "Detective Otter" know they were in the twenty-first century? When Charlotte thought of it, they probably didn't, since no sane parent would name their child Otter. Or have a working radio to record a cassette tape with.
Charlotte had laid out the options for who this detective from ten thousand B.C. was. Since they knew her locker number, they were either a teacher or someone who stole the locker list from a teacher. Both possibilities were creepy. Both were very unlikely. Both made barely any sense.
At Waterfalls Secondary School, you did not steal from teachers. Teachers stole from you ( at least, the chance of getting a good grade). And if the teacher was doing this, that was creepy and really sad. But it did make slight sense, since one English teacher did look like a deformed otter and very ancient.
Charlotte was confused as to what to do. If the cassette contained bad internet jokes, than that would be the worst and best prank in the world. But the notes seemed so desperately asking for her to listen to it, like it was a life-or-death situation. Maybe it was.
After the bell rang and the chaotic stampeding of seventeen-year-old teenagers started, Charlotte finally took the note with the cassette and put it in her backpack. There was a broken radio her grandmother had that she might be able to fix if there were any Google search results.
It was the note that scared her more than the fact she was going to play this potentially anything cassette tape. Potentially stalker-ish, potentially a threat, potentially a plea for help.
This weird note-exchange had been going on since the beginning of the school year. For the first few weeks it was different every time, but now it was the same request: to play a cassette tape left with the thirty-first note.
Seriously, did "Detective Otter" know they were in the twenty-first century? When Charlotte thought of it, they probably didn't, since no sane parent would name their child Otter. Or have a working radio to record a cassette tape with.
Charlotte had laid out the options for who this detective from ten thousand B.C. was. Since they knew her locker number, they were either a teacher or someone who stole the locker list from a teacher. Both possibilities were creepy. Both were very unlikely. Both made barely any sense.
At Waterfalls Secondary School, you did not steal from teachers. Teachers stole from you ( at least, the chance of getting a good grade). And if the teacher was doing this, that was creepy and really sad. But it did make slight sense, since one English teacher did look like a deformed otter and very ancient.
Charlotte was confused as to what to do. If the cassette contained bad internet jokes, than that would be the worst and best prank in the world. But the notes seemed so desperately asking for her to listen to it, like it was a life-or-death situation. Maybe it was.
After the bell rang and the chaotic stampeding of seventeen-year-old teenagers started, Charlotte finally took the note with the cassette and put it in her backpack. There was a broken radio her grandmother had that she might be able to fix if there were any Google search results.
It was the note that scared her more than the fact she was going to play this potentially anything cassette tape. Potentially stalker-ish, potentially a threat, potentially a plea for help.