Irritating possession

Prompt: Opening up your lunch box, you expect to find your normal mixture of baby carrots, a slightly-mushed sandwich and a clementine. But today's different. Instead of the food you swore you had packed that morning, there's a mysterious note signed by—yourself? What does it say, and why can't you remember writing it? Perhaps most important, what will you eat for lunch?

Source

Fourth time in a row. I should have seen this coming. I promised myself it wouldn't have seen it coming, took all the precautions got myself pumped up, for this. Stupid piece of paper. And it's a busy day I'm hungry. A nice little PB&J sandwich that I'd hurried through, baby carrots and two clementines, a banana too, possibly, that's what I was expecting. Hoping rather. At this point. I'm not happy with what has been happening.

A letter. That appears to be written by me. Or a 'mysterious note' if you want to be all dramatic and feel like you're in a mystery story. It's not a big deal. Not anymore anyway. This one tells me to avenge, avenge the death of someone I don't know against people I've never heard of. The morning me can be grumpy and annoying, don't understand where it gets such energy and motivation to compose these elaborate angry letters at such wee hour. The most irritating part of it all is it hijacks everything right after I've packed my lunch, so I can't hide my food from it.

Sneh comes by, I look at her lunchbox greedily. Roti and potatoes. She asks me what's up I show her the letter. She snorts. She tried helping me the first day. Her lunch disappeared the next day, to be replaced by a note similar to the one I have been getting. That girl is not a hero to go on quests, she doesn't want to mess with any supernatural forces that have been getting active lately. No curiosity at all. I ask her if she wants to hear my theory on what's happening. My friend pauses for a moment and very very cautiously asks if she will get in trouble for it at some future point if she shows curiosity. I tell her I don't know, though it's unlikely to impact her because it's not like she's interfering with my life. The uncurious woman asks me for my theory. I explain that old theory about potentially dissociated identities of mine, and it could be one of them picking up at potentially some point when I blacked out. Could be aliens, she says, nothing I can add to that because for all I know could as well. Hey, call me if you're in one of your other personalities, she says, I want to meet the version of you that's been eating all the lunch like half-an-hour after breakfast must have one hell of an appetite. I grunt, an annoyed acknowledgement grunt, as she walks away from me. I'm not mad, she has said to my face she is afraid of whoever or whatever it is, and can't deal with it until there's a better understanding of exactly what is happening and how she can avoid getting in any sort of trouble. No troubles for me again yaar, she says, I need to convince my parents to send me out on a vacation abroad, they're not going to be agreeable if I'm involved with these ghosts or clones or aliens or whatever yeah. I call her a bitch and shout, tell her to come back. She's gone.

The paper is big and it would probably not kill me. My stomach wants what it wants, I can't help it. I will boil the water in the kettle, add salt a bit of soy sauce and the noodle spice packet that I saved from last week. Guess it's going to be spiced letter soup for me today.