She walked out into the living room and saw the large book sitting on the table. She didn't know where it had came from or how it got there. It was simply just there. She glared at the book almost as if to will it away from her spotless living room. The phone rang.
"Hello?" she asked the caller.
"Hello, is Marcus there?" replied the caller.
"No, I'm sorry no one lives here by that name," she responded
"Sorry, I must have the wrong number," said the caller and hung up immeditely.
The girl looked back on to the table at which the book layed. She noticed now it was missing. She looked around the table at which it had been. The book was a missing one now. She fretted for a moment and almost thought that she was insane. Then she just waved her hand and let it fall smiling, thinking that the book had never been there. She was just imagining things again.
She walked back into the kitchen. She picked up the glass bottle with no label. She poured herself a drink and leaned against the counter to relax. She put the glass to her lips and tasted the sweetness of her drink. After five drinks she rinsed out the glass and put in away.
She walked back into the living room again. There the book layed again on the table. This time she picked the book up and looked inside. The pages where all blank. She had no idea why such a large book with so many pages would be empty.
The clock donged to 9pm. She dropped the book and walked into her bed room. She pulled the sheets down and changed for the nite. Then fell asleep in her bed. The next morning she awoke to darkness. It was 5am. She changed, showered, and then ate breakfast. It was 6am. She sighed and sat down in the living room. The book was again missing. She sat for 30minutes and then went out to her bustop.
She went to work and repeated her same routine. Day in and day out. She was the employee of every month. She never missed a day of work. She never was late. She had worked there for 10 years. She didn't do anything with her money except pay the rent and utlities. She didn't even own a tv or a radio.
She got home at 4:30 every evening. She fixed herself her dinner and then her lunch for the next day. She cleaned up and sat in the living room again. Then she stared at the book again. It layed there the same place as any other time she had seen it. She opened the book once again. The same thing happened once more. She had seen nothing in this large book. That night she went to bed she didn't wake up.
The police came two weeks later to inspect the apartment. There was the book lying on the living room table. The book was titled "This is your Life".
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