The Confession of Anon Ymous

To the person reading this, please deliver this letter to Shiori Novella. This is my confession.
	My name is Anon Ymous. I am XX years old and live in [redacted]. I work a dead-end job, but somehow managed to afford a house of my own and had a wonderful girlfriend. Her name is Shiori Novella, and she is the love of my life. The way she obsesses over things that interest her, the way that she can start talking about one topic and end a conversation a million miles away, the way that she sometimes says the weirdest things and acts like they’re completely normal, and the way that she supports me no matter what are just a taste of all the reasons I love her. The reason I mention this is thus: I have wronged my girlfriend, my beloved Shiori, in an unspeakable manner. As I write this, I still lack the will to put into writing the nature of my wrongdoing. It was so heinous, so unspeakable, that my soul is stained black with the ink of sin, and a special punishment awaits me in the very depths of Hell. I cannot bear the burden I have brought upon myself, which is why I now put pen to paper and admit to my crime. I will begin with explaining the events leading up to the fateful moment where I made that terrible mistake in the hope that doing so will give me the strength needed to detail my crime in full.
	It happened on a Sunday in late February. Fresh snow blanketed the world outside my home, icicles hung off of the trees outside my windows, and all was still. Winter brings with it death, but it also brings a peace that other seasons lack. I had just arrived home from a week-long business trip and had fallen asleep as soon as I got home, so I hadn’t yet realized the gravity of the situation I returned to. Shiori had been staying at my house while I was away, and when I arrived home, she was already asleep. I climbed in bed next to her and instantly fell asleep. I awoke a little past sunrise, my beloved still sleeping soundly next to me. She mumbled softly about a spear-wielding prince and his quest to reclaim his home from invaders and was clearly enjoying her dream, so I decided to let her sleep. I got out of bed, got dressed, and went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. I was never one for coffee and Shiori refuses to drink it, but ever since I got my new job, I’ve needed all the energy I can get. If that means relying on some fetid bean water to get through the day, so be it. I grabbed a random mug for myself and a cute cat mug with a tail for a handle for Shiori, and set to work. I was just making instant coffee for myself, but I knew Shiori would appreciate waking up to a cup of tea, so I decided to boil some water in a kettle for her. While the water was boiling, I went to the refrigerator to grab some milk for my coffee.
	What I saw changed me.
	There was still a jug of milk in my refrigerator, but its contents could not be described as natural, let alone milk. Inside the jug was a black, sludge-like substance. There were several whitish globs of something that still somewhat resembled incredibly spoiled milk arranged in a way that almost seemed like a face, and the word “YORICK” was written on the jug with a black sharpie. The mass jiggled as I moved and examined the carton, but the “face” within always looked like it was on the verge of tears. As I moved, it seemed to follow my gaze, almost like it was trying to convey some message to me but lacked the ability to do so. The date on the container read January 2nd.  Looking closer, I realized the year was three years ago. Somehow, a jug of incredibly expired milk filled with something that seemed almost alive had made its way into my refrigerator. The milk I had asked Shiori to buy before I returned was nowhere to be found. As I stared into the "eyes" of this jug and the creature within, I felt a strange presence coming from it. Yorick was not a mere milk jug, but a living, breathing creature. And it was suffering. Yorick wanted to be free. Free from the milk jug. Free from its physical form. Free from the shackles of this mortal world. It was at that moment that I heard the sound of footsteps behind me, followed by a quiet “good morning…”. Shiori had woken up. “Oh, I see you’ve found Yorick! Isn’t he adorable?” she said, instantly perking up. “You told me to get you milk, but I just brought Yorick from home instead. I’ve been taking care of him for a while now.” It was then that I realized, to great horror, that my wonderful Shiorin was responsible for the horrors in my refrigerator.
	It was then that I lost control of myself and gave in to temptation. Grabbing the jug of milk, I sprinted out the door without saying a word to Shiorin. I could hear Shiorin, still inside the house, yell.  “Anon, wait! What are you doing with Yorick!? I worked so hard on him! Please, stop! He’s my best friend!” I heard her protests, but the demon inside me made it impossible to stop on the path I now walked. My bare feet were beginning to go numb from the cold of the snow, but I pressed on. I took Yorick out to the shed, set him down, and entered the small building on my own. I emerged with a large drum, like the ones used to store oil, and the can of gasoline I kept for my lawn mower. I threw Yorick into the drum, poured the entire gas can in on top of the monstrosity, and tossed in a lit match. In an instant, the drum erupted in flames, consuming the horror within. Shiori ran out of the house, only to collapse at the sight of the blaze. “Yorick… no…” She fell to the ground, holding back tears, and looked at me. “Anon, how could you!? He was my friend! I raised him from a single mold colony!”. After saying that, Shiori broke down in tears, laying in the snow as the flames consumed her beloved Yorick. Without saying a word, I left her to mourn her friend and got in my car. I left town that night and have yet to return.
	I, Anon Ymous, killed Yorick the milk jug blob by burning him alive. Shiori, if you’re reading this, I’m so, so sorry for what I’ve done. I don’t ask for your forgiveness, as Yorick was clearly more important to you than I could ever know and all I wish for in life is your happiness, but I do ask one thing of you. Please stop naming your milk.