The notebook

I promised I would give myself more time, but with how Lillith and I spend almost every waking moment together, I don't think I'll be able to find much time. So, yeah - I just finished looking through it. In fact, it's right next to me on the couch here; thankfully Lillith just fell asleep so it didn't disturb her to have me look through it - to clarify, she doesn't mind if I do look through it, it's just I don't want to be disrespectful and do it while she was up. 


That, and she's probably gone through too much already with the fucking thing. Not going to let her look at what she's drawn. 


Needless to say, the contents were - disturbing. Even more so then Robert's notebook. 


Most of it is just shaded-in pages with various words written on it, including "SUNDOWN" "HE COMES" "WAKING IS NOSAFE", and the like. I imagine this has to do with what she told me about The Weaver and how he comes while she was sleeping - which I don't understand. I've been here two nights now and she's slept soundly and felt no need to write in the notebook, she told me. 


Anyway - I'll discuss my theories after I'm done with summarizing the book. 


I managed to grab a few pictures off of my phone of the book, so instead of me writing out all of it, here are a few shots: 








Just for clarification - that pen was inside the notebook when I found it, so I moved it onto the sofa(the black part) but I ended up taking pictures on it as well when I found my lap wasn't the best place for pictures. 

Anyway, yeah. What's there to say? Apparently "Tree Man" is being sought after by the Weaver. 


As I've said before, and will say again, until he shows up; 


Fuck you. 


P.S: I'll post a detailed analysis later, if you all want. 

The notebook + Lillith's condition

I do have some good news to report on Lillith - she's sleeping right now, so I'm finally able to write this up. Meant to yesterday but I was just so busy with her - and sorry, Internet, helping my dear friend/ex-girlfriend takes precedent over letting you know about it at that time. 


Anyway, the good news is that she is improving day by day. Yesterday, on her parents' advice, we ordered some Chinese food, which is her favourite - and she ate like a pig(no offence, Lillith). Considering that she's been subsisting on stale bread and water for the past month according to Bryan and her parents, it's a significant improvement over everything, even if only one time. 


She's also been sleeping much better - she told me that before I came over, she only slept for an hour or so a night - and, in context, it would explain her zombie-like state. Now, since I've been over, she's been sleeping a full 8 hours or more, just like me. I don't want to sound presumptuous or anything, but it seems that since I've been here, she's getting better. 


I really don't know what to make of it. She's obviously happy to see me and such, but - why would my presence inspire her to start getting back to normal? Either way, I'm not going to question it - I'm just happy that, slowly but surely, she's getting better. She's even told me that her crippling headaches and nosebleeds are starting to go away, which I am super thankful for. 


Though, through all the positive news, comes the negative; her notebook. She told me she's been keeping one, just like Robert, and just like he told me once upon a time, when she writes in it, her pain and the like goes away. From what I can gather from Lillith and I's conversations, it seems as though the notebooks act as a conduit of sorts - Lillith says that her headaches and pain start when "the Weaver" wants to get her attention, and stops or lessens when she writes or draws in her notebook. It's almost as if writing or drawing in it allows what it's saying to be expressed, and thus, it stops putting mental pressure(I would assume) onto her mind. 


I haven't looked at Lillith's notebook yet, and I'm rather reluctant to. I know that I have to, but I'm not sure what I'll find in there - she's been keeping this notebook longer then Robert, and I don't want to do anything that will jeopardize her and her recovery. 


I'll give it another day. Tomorrow, I'll look at the notebook - and I will post what I find in an entry here. 


Now, I think Lillith is up, so I need to go make her some breakfast. 

Update.

Just a small one. 


Nothing's happened since my last entry. Lillith seems to be getting a bit better - she's eating a bit more and doesn't look as pale as she did when I first got here. 


Other then that, nothing new. I'll try to keep you all updated on her condition, though - keep those well wishes coming. 

Settled in

I know it's a little late, but it took me this long to convince Lillith to go get some sleep. 


I got here around two pm this afternoon. The house looks as though no one's lived in it for a while - you could hear a pin drop the silence was so pronounced. Dust everywhere, everything all perfectly arranged - it was kind of eerie, I must admit. 


Anyway, I checked on Lillith's parents when I first arrived. They're fine - they said hello in their empty, robotic voices and continued eating their lunch. They seem to be recovering slightly - which is good. 


It's about a thousand steps away from Lillith, that's for sure. 


I found her in the living room, staring into the backyard. She looks utterly terrible, and I mean that. Her hair is all ragged and greasy - and I swear parts of it are falling out. She's wearing the same clothes I last saw her in - which was over a month ago. Not to insult her, but she smells awful; it's obvious she hasn't showered or done anything of the sort for weeks. 


It took me four hours to convince her to get a shower. I had to help her shower - I had to help a 22-year old woman shower herself and get cleaned up. It's not that she didn't know how - she just didn't care. She even told me straight up, "why bother? The Weaver will come and nothing will matter. It's just like Robert, Smith*(Not my real name, but I'm not putting that in here.) - we can try to save them, but nothing." 


After that, I sat her down at the kitchen table and questioned her gently. 


Most of it she refused to say anything, but there were a few parts that I remembered that I had to write down; 


Me: Lillith, honey, I'm trying to help you. I know what this is - what's going on here..


Lillith: That's the thing. You don't know - no one does. I tried to warn you all when he first started coming to me, but no one would listen. You would say it was in my head, that I was imagining things - well, it is in my head, all the time - but it's not imaginary.

It's voice calls to me. It's beautiful melody of malevolence. I know what Robert felt near the end. 


Me: What do you mean? What does it say? 


Lillith: you can't understand, Smith. No one can - not even me. But the pain it causes me to even look at it, to be around it - to hear it in my head, all the time. The notebook - 


Me: I know. Robert told me that they help. Do they? 


Lillith: Yeah. They do - I only could hold out for a few days before I started writing. And when I write - it's almost as if his voice flows onto the paper. It makes the headaches stop - it makes me not sick to my stomach. It makes my nose stop bleeding. 


Me: What does it do? I have the headaches, but...


Lillith: (At this point, she looked up right at me and her eyes...they were almost alight with intensity.) It's not ready for you yet, Smith. It still has to finish with me. 


Me: I won't let it. I don't care. 


Lillith: You're sweet, hun - maybe that's why I still care about you - but you can't stop it. No one can; Robert thought he could, but he failed. I see him more and more in my eyes now - not in the corners or as fleeting ghost images, but always now. And he's getting closer. 


Me: ...Okay, Lillith. Why do you call it The Weaver?

Lillith: The dreams. 


Me: I've had them. The dreams are - 


Lillith: Fucked up, aren't they? (She laughed nervously) - When I first started having them, they didn't make sense. But as he draws closer to you, they get more clear. He weaves your dreams. The Weaver. It makes sense. 


Me: I...see. Where is your notebook, Lillith? 


Lillith: Can't tell you. Not yet - if I tell you, then he will be mad. And I can't have that yet, Smith - when he's angry, he takes you...makes you do things. Things I can't remember. 


Me: It's okay, Lillith. Thanks for telling me. 


So, he's interested in me, but not until he's done with Lillith? 


Well, mr Weaver - fuck you. 


Fuck you and whatever dimensional or Biblical train you rode in on. 

Heading to Lillith's tomorrow

I  got a call this afternoon from Bryan, Lillith's boyfriend. He told me that he needs to go back to Waterloo for some family stuff or what not - and he's asked me to come over and look after Lillith to make sure everything stays okay with her. 


According to him, Lillith's gone downhill since I was last over there. She refuses to eat or drink anything but water and stale bread and spends all her time looking out the window. According to Bryan, she's attacked him on several occasions in a near-crazed state, claiming that "the weaver" was coming to get her. 


If this "weaver" is Mr Slim, then we're in trouble. 


Bryan also says that she's keeping a notebook, just like Robert. 


Great. Fucking great. I don't want to see her go down this road. Not again. Oh God, not again. 


Her parents are just kind of ghosts. They hardly leave their bedroom except to eat or use the washroom. So, basically, it is just her. Which is why I need to be over there - if Lillith is falling fast then someone needs to be there to help her. 


I'm going to see if I can do something. Anything for her - I won't lose her like I lost Robert. 


I know I shouldn't, but I need to ask her some questions as well. About all of this - if I can find out anything about what she's seen, it might help me in understanding my dreams - I hope. I know that she's suffering, but it may be the only hope I've got to attempting to fix this, or at least understanding it a bit more. 


I'll probably update you when I've settled there tomorrow afternoon. 


I've never been one to ask for best wishes, but if you people out there on the Internet can give them, I'll need as many wishes as you can muster. 

Thief!

From the title, as you can probably tell, dinner didn't go as planned. 

We had a good supper, mind you, but it was when we got home - about an hour ago, now - that we had a problem. 

As we came into the apartment(we live in the basement floor, so we had to go down stairs), I saw someone -leaving- the apartment, wearing my blue flannel coat(it's light, so I wear it even in the summer. Yes, I wear a coat in the summer. Shut up.). Naturally, I gave chase after this person - and shit, could he run. 

I chased him down probably  half the street before I had to give up because of my back giving out on me(almost had him too, which pissed me off).

I didn't manage to see much of anything on him while giving chase - I was more concerned with keeping up with him, but I noticed that he(I presume it was a he) was wearing black jeans which were very tattered and old-looking. 

So, I had a thief steal my -coat- of all things wearing old jeans. I get the feeling this is unrelated - we've searched the house top to bottom and found no new notes or anything else. 

Either way, I thought it would make an amusing entry. 

Shame about my coat. I rather liked it. Poor Lillith is going to be heartbroken - she loved that coat. 

Taking a little break

Nothing major, I assure you. 


My parents and I are going out to dinner tonight, so I'll be able to stop wrecking my brain over that dream and the others that I barely remember. 


I have to say, though; all of this is starting to wear me down. I mean, all of the notes, the dreams, the paranoid feelings...it's hard to resist it all when it comes, all of the time. It's as if I'm trying to hold back a tidal wave with a stick. I just get the feeling that I won't be able to hold all of this stuff back for long. 


Though, the more I think about it, it doesn't matter. I don't care how intense the headaches get, how bad the paranoia gets, I won't give in. I can't. I owe it to myself - and more so, to Robert and his family. 


It's just hard to go on sometimes. With all that's happened and still happening - it's as if something is saying "give up". But I've never been one to call it quits on a situation; I can't give up. Not now, not ever. I have to fight my way through all of this. If I can get to the end, great. 


If not, at least I'll be satisfied at fighting until the end.