If you decided to turn to this page to honor my request, did you do so? Or did you choose to skip the trouble and skim the pages? Truthfully, it doesn’t truly matter what you do anyway. However, the thought of someone listening to my unreasonable demands... genuinely pleases me, so I hope you do.

  Anyhow, if you’re interested in continuing onward, I will assign you your first task:

  Have a popsicle at the beach.

  I’m going to regret this, won’t I?

  They weren’t lying when they said there would be unreasonable demands. It’s one thing to ask me to buy a popsicle, which is bizarre. But then they demanded that I visit a beach for that, and the beach specified was several hours away, even by public transport. I’ve got to traverse the intense heat myself to eat a popsicle.

  Just for a popsicle.

  Suffice it to say, my mood wasn’t particularly lifted after the brief respite I was allowed as I sat on the bench. The view of the ocean was a pretty sight. The popsicle helped with the heat, and the shop lady was lovely. However, considering the exhaustion after my brief conversation with her, I felt pathetic about the difficulty I developed with talking to others.

  I was about to dismiss the whole day as a useless waste of time, but I decided to retake a look at the notebook after this trip, as it instructed me to turn to the next page. It seems like this person wants me to complete these bizarre assignments before allowing me to read further.

  This entire affair will not be resolved within a day or two, and I can’t say I’m excited about it. Feeling an intense surge of conflicting emotions that begged me to abort this entire operation, I flip to the next page.

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  So… how was the popsicle? Did you get the orange-flavored one, like I suggested?

  I did, and it feels like I have diabetes right now.

  How was the trip? Since it’s the first assignment, I wanted you to have a casual trip in the surrounding area, or at least I assume it’s nearby for you. I hope you’re grateful for my consideration.

  It didn’t turn out the way they claimed to have hoped, but I guess I can’t fault them for the circumstances. I don’t appreciate the self-gratification, though. What was so special about this place, this popsicle for me to go through all the trouble?

  Was this a childhood memory or something?

  Or wait. They wrote that they chose this specific area for my convenience… If that's the reason, does this mean they don’t even have a special connection to this place? I feel my headache intensifying as my hold on the sturdy notebook tightens. I take a deep breath and continue reading.

  As you may or may not have guessed, I’ve never been to this place!

  I feel my face grow slightly red out of irritation, but I continue reading. Can I assume that they have some other connection to it?

  I honestly never even heard of that place until recently!

  Does this place have any special connection to this case?

  Nope, this place holds no significance. Not in the slightest.

  This person really planned this out, predicting the reader's thoughts in advance. That annoyed me in its own way.

  Alright… So not only do they make me go on this entire trip so I can waste my weekend for this crap, but there’s nothing even special about it? I was, suffice it to say, royally pissed.

  I am curious, though, about what you thought during this trip. What assumptions did you make about me as a person, and how did your perceptions shift after reading this? The following page contains your second assignment. Flip over to it once you’re ready.

  That’s how the page ends. Nothing else.

  After reading this, I felt nothing. That's actually not true. I have a knot of emotions, and none seem pleasant or healthy. Imagining this person's personality that I could only describe as awful, I decided not to dwell on those thoughts. Instead, I dragged myself to the train station to drive back home. The entire trip was a blur as I suddenly found myself in front of my apartment door. Lifelessly, I entered my room and dropped the notebook on the desk. I didn’t have the time to waste my energy on this. My weekend doesn’t last forever, and I won’t function later if I waste my time on this mess.

  And so I drop into my bed, like a stone, and drift into a deep slumber, desperate to escape this current reality.