It's been 2 days since my last post about the dreams I've been having, and I thought I should keep you guys in the loop about it.
I'm still having them, and no, I still can't remember much beyond fragments -fragments that make no sense. If I go by the dream I had last night then I went to a river on a date with a tree, which ended in me french-kissing a pinecone.
To use a phrase the Internet uses, "da fuq".
I'd like to think aspects of the dream are just something out of my past. For example, I do remember kissing someone in the dream - and I did kiss someone(Lillith) in my past, obviously(wouldn't have been much of a relationship without kissing and the occasional sex). But still, it's odd that these dreams would resurface after all this time - and after what happened.
Anyway, I also wanted to clarify what I said about Tall, Dark and Scary in my last update. It's odd, because Robert himself told me about the guy - how he would just stand there, across the street, staring at him. Sometimes he would end up right by Robert's window - which was on the second floor of the house, but that's beyond me. We're not dealing with a rapist on stilts here - though I wish we were, as it would be much easier to deal with.
But the thing is, I don't see anything. Nowhere. Nothing. No faceless man with a suit around me.
Lillith swears she sees him out of the corner of her eye every now and then; when I was over the other day about the note, she kept staring out of her screen door towards the apple orchard in their backyard(It's a big backyard, mind you). I asked her if she was seeing anything, and she just kept saying how she kept seeing "him out of the corner of my eye. Just watching me, like he watched Robert." Again, there was -nothing- there.
I can't shake the feeling of being watched even when there's no one there.
I don't see anything, my parents don't see anything, and that's that. Still, it's got me on edge. Like, a lot. And the funny thing is - I feel compelled to start writing shit down in notebooks. I don't even know WHAT to write, but my mind keeps telling me to write something down, that it'll ease the tension. Though, with what I know about those fucking notebooks, I'm resisting it now as hard as I can. I can't give in - else that might do to me what it did to Robert, I don't know.
I'll keep searching. Maybe I'll be able to remember something about my dreams. I hope something comes to me - I hate fumbling around in the dark with no light.