[ WP ] You open your computer to a Word document that you do n't remember leaving open . In small font you read :

Don ’ t forget the milk 
 
 The milk? What milk? Was I eating cereal? It was seven in the morning, and I was not up for this right now. 
 
 Nonetheless, I looked around for any hint about what the milk could mean. There was a full gallon in the fridge, I take my tea black, I hadn ’ t been baking anything. Guessing I just stayed up too late, I shrugged and closed my computer. I could worry about that later. 
 
 The rest of my morning went normally -- in fact, the rest of the day went normally. That night I went to bed at a reasonable hour, making extra sure there weren ’ t any other strange documents anywhere. Satisfied, I closed my computer and went to bed. 
 
 Don ’ t forget the milk 
 
 I stared in horror at the message. How was someone getting into my room, unlocking my computer, and writing me this message, all without me knowing?? I quickly deleted the document and went to my fridge. The milk was still there, just as I ’ d left it. I picked it up and inspected it. Nothing seemed strange about it. It didn ’ t smell like it had gone bad. It still tasted like normal milk. 
 
 I put it back and tried to forget about it. That day, all I could focus on was the milk. I watched people drink it, throw it out, spill it. More people were drinking milk than I think I ’ d ever seen. Did they normally drink this much milk? Or was it all just part of my apparent curse? 
 
 I tried to act normal, but there was so much milk. Would people notice I wasn ’ t acting myself? I figured I should just go home. There was too much pressure, and milk, out in the world. 
 
 At home, I picked up my computer, thinking maybe someone else had had this problem. 
 
 Don ’ t forget the milk 
 
 I screamed and accidentally threw my laptop onto the floor, breaking it. How?! My doors were locked! There shouldn ’ t be any way that someone could get in! 
 
 I marched to my refrigerator, took out the milk, and dumped it down the drain. I wasn ’ t about to become a slave to some stupid message. I threw out the milk carton and the collected pieces of my laptop, and brought the bag outside to the dumpster. I just wasn ’ t going to deal with any of this anymore. 
 
 The next day I checked in every room, making sure there weren ’ t any notes hidden somewhere. My phone was safe, along with every other electronic device. There weren ’ t any scraps of paper hidden. Satisfied, I got ready for the day and went back to a normal life. 
 
 Soon enough, everything was just the same as before, save for me no longer buying milk. I eventually forgot all about the notes, even feeling comfortable enough to buy a new laptop. When no strange messages appeared, I figured I was officially in the clear. 
 
 That winter, I volunteered to make cupcakes for a Christmas party. As I happily baked along, nothing too strange seemed to be happening, except that maybe the batter seemed a little thick. I added more water to compensate, but something just seemed off. The batter tasted good enough, though, so I let it pass. 
 
 I put the cake in the oven and went to go watch a movie on my computer. About 10 minutes in, Word opened. 
 
 Don ’ t forget the milk 
 
 I threw my laptop down next to me and ran to the kitchen to look at the cake. It was bubbling, and looked ready to explode. I ran from the room and hid behind my couch, getting there just before a massive BOOM. 
 
 My house was destroyed. Everything was rubble, covered in cake batter. The only thing that was unharmed was my laptop, which now seemed to be glowing. I cautiously approached, looking at the screen. It was black, save for a white box in the center, with the prompt 
 
 > Write warning here. 
 
 Unsure, I typed in 
 
 Don ’ t forget the milk
