7/14/2002
“My dreams have come back, very strange dreams. There was one I love to go back to, almost too long to put down here really but one I should remember, very pointed. The stalker. The murderer saying ‘I see you, I know you’ and has since I was a kid. Nancy and Colette were searching my house in San Jose so as to make sure it met regulations. I left to go get mom and a bite to eat at the café in my other dream about the end of the world. My cell phone rang, it was a 12-year-old Steve, old and young at the same time who said he was home and heard a loud crash and was scared. Another crash and the phone cut off. I looked at my mother. She knew. She turned into an owl and flew out the window. ‘Here it goes’ I thought, panicked. Immediately a package arrived at my table. I opened it up to find pictures, collages really. Remember when Steve made that one with a girl holding her breath under water only it was me, a kid, terrified and drowning in a sinister comic way. Very funny. And disturbing, I thought. Who did this? The next page, me in Jamaica with snide comments written around me. Pictures of me that I haven’t seen in years all with dark overtones (deadly) and certainly spelling out my doom, although I found it somewhat amusing. He, it was definitely a ‘He’, was getting closer, had been there all along, watching, collecting pictures. I was sorry for having done it. Done what I don’t know. I felt responsible and scared and ready to confront it all at once. ‘This will be fine once I get this taken care of,’ I felt. ‘Old news, why is he still following me? Lets take care of it once and for all.’ Little kid pictures, how weak he must be. It means nothing. A minor annoyance. A comic jibe. I was concerned for my family’s safety and then I woke up, heart racing.”
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