The dictaphone

Angie yawned loudly.

Laying in her bed, her eyes half-open, she sighed as the alarm clock was buzzing again and again. Gathering her will, she finally stood up and her eyes crossed the reflection in her length mirror, displaying a very small girl in some old blue pajamas, looking no more than 13 even if she was 16. Her face was kind of cute under her chestnut hairs, but nobody was really noticing it, especially when she had her old, thick glasses on. To tell the truth, nobody was ever noticing her, glasses or not. the girl patted her chest, just as flat as the other parts of her body, and wondered why she couldn't be just like the other girls at school. She knew that her classmates were doing jokes about "Flat Angie" when she wasn't around, but the worst was Vanessa, the school biggest girl, who was making the same jokes, but just in front of her. And displaying her amazing body at the same time.

"Life is so unfair !", she said while leaving her bedroom to take a shower and prepare herself. She went back to take some baggy clothes in her closet The best way to hide my poor figure. She thought, before sadly adding Even if everybody already knows about it. She then went downstairs to take her breakfast, all alone as her parents were already at work in a suburban factory, but noticed something while moving near a window.

There was something in the mailbox.

"Strange", thought Angie, as usually the delivery man wasn't working this early. Checking her watch, and realizing that she had some time in front of her before catching her bus, she went to the mailbox and opened it to find a small package. "To the one who will find this..." she read written over it, and then looked everywhere around her, guessing that it was some kind of joke. But there was nobody around, so she shrugged and went back inside her house, running to her bedroom to open it. Tearing off the paper, she found a strange black box with no inscription. Shaking it a bit, she heard nothing, so she opened the thing and frowned.

Inside, carefully packed, was a black and silver device with a few buttons for reading, recording or erasing. And nothing else.

"Is that some sort of voice recorder ?" muttered Angie, still not sure about a joke, "What am I supposed to do with it ?". clicking on the play button, waiting for some kind of recorded insulting message and laughs, she was kind of confused when nothing happened. Maybe the battery is down, she thought, but checking the thing, she couldn't find any sort of battery compartment. "That's really strange", she said. She decided to try it, clicking on the record button, and said "My name is Angie" and stopped. She clicked play and she heard her own voice saying "My name is Angie".

"Ok, where's the damn battery ? Or the manual ? And why would somebody send me this ?"