The woman behind the desk gives me a very strange look. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Walpurgisnacht was last month.”

“No, it was last night.”

“Frau Smith, you’ve been gone for over a month. Last night you returned and said you were jet-lagged and went straight to sleep.” Then she presents me with an envelope. This was left for you though.

I take the envelope, completely confused. Perhaps the receptionist’s English isn’t as good as her accent and she misunderstood me. Or she’s gotten me confused with another American guest. I open the envelope as I go into the dining room for breakfast. But I stop dead in my tracks before I get there.

Georgie,

This is the address to the cabin. Look under the floorboards in the bedroom. Trust me. Do not leave Brocken without what is yours. You earned this and it’s all yours. This is you writing this to yourself.

Love,

Georgie

I flip the letter over nothing. It’s plain A4 printer paper. There’s nothing special about this except that it’s my handwriting. Why would I leave a letter for myself at the front desk?

I go into the breakfast buffet and get myself a cup of coffee, bread, and bacon. All of the food tastes so much. I feel like I’ve not tasted such delicious food in such a long time. My taste buds are in heave. I think it must be because of all the drinking I did last night. It’s affected even how food tastes.

But then a thought crosses my mind, what if I was drugged by that stranger? But then how did I end up back at my hotel unharmed? I scan the dining room looking for any familiar faces from last night. But no one looks familiar.

After breakfast I return to my room and then decide to head out to this cabin I told myself about in the note. But first I go to the phone shop in the small town and buy a prepaid phone with a map. Google maps reckons it will take me two hours to get to this mysterious cabin. I let the hotel know where I’m going. But I tell them that I’m going to meet a friend. The hotel recommends a car rental service and I begin my journey by renting a car.

What should have been only a two hour drive turned into a three and a half hour drive because I had never driven through the mountains before. I took a lot of turns very slowly and actually got out of my car a few times just to take a deep breath and encourage myself to continue. What could be in this cabin? Curiosity is pushing me to continue and the sentence I wrote to myself,’ Do not leave Brocken without what is yours.’ I’m almost desperate now especially since I’ve come to accept an entire month of my life is missing. The hotel says I went home, except my passport and belongings were all in my bag that never left the hotel and there’s no record of me leaving to go anywhere. No emails. No phone calls. No tickets bought on my credit card. Nothing. The only things missing are the clothing I wore on Walpurgisnacht and my phone. Are these things waiting for me in the cabin?

I stop for gas as I get closer to the cabin. I want to make sure I have a full tank just in case I need to make a fast getaway. While I’m in the gas station, I see that they sell Swiss army knives so I buy one of those too, just in case. Then I get back in the car and make my way through narrow mountain roads following a route that is just a blue moving dot on an unnamed road. Finally, when it says I’ve reached my destination, I see nothing but trees and more of this small dirt road. I keep going a little further wondering if there’s a cabin here.

Up ahead, I see what looks like it could be a driveway so I continue driving. I’m the only car on this road. A few minutes later I wonder if I should turn around. There’s nothing here but a dirt road that no one has used in a long time and trees. Just when I decide to turn around and go back the way I came, I see a small cabin further up in the distance. I drive towards it. My heart is beating so fast. What if I escaped and I’m returning to my prison?

I try to quiet those thoughts. Why would I write a letter to myself if it weren’t true?

But I can think of a thousand reasons why.

I have nothing to lose but my life, even though I don’t want to die, I also want to know what’s in this cabin and where a month of my life has gone. I have a feeling it has something to do with the cabin and the note. And I must know.

I park the car and get out. I make sure the doors are locked and that I have the Swiss army knife in my pocket. I just stand in front of the cabin for a minute. Everything is quiet. It’s early evening on a beautiful spring day. The cabin doesn’t look familiar to me at all, so I doubt I was kept prisoner here. I would remember that I am sure. I walk towards it and knock on the door.

No one answers.

I knock again.

No answer.

“Hello?” I say loudly.

No one.

I circle the cabin and look in the windows. It’s dark and there’s no one home. There’s only a little furniture. I go back to the door and try the door. It’s open.

“Hello?”

Nothing stirs.

I walk in. My footsteps seem loud in the stillness. It’s a plain German cabin with German things in it. I look around. I recognize nothing. I’m sure I’ve never been here before. I go into the bedroom and look at the wooden floor. It doesn’t look like there’s anything in the floor. But I’ve come all this way so I get on my hands and knees and run my fingers along the grooves. When I find a break I pull up. It’s heavier than I thought but I use the Swiss army knife to give me some leverage and am able to pull up the part of the floor hiding a secret compartment.