AN: I’ve been having nightmares every night since my
trip to the Rossman house. The same nightmare, to be exact. Dirk Rossman is
somehow sending me this nightmare every night. In it I can see myself, through
his eyes, looking in through the window of his house. When I turn to run my
sight follows me through the woods until I stop. When I stop my gaze enters my
head and I see through my own eyes a clearing in the forest filled with
thousands upon thousands of people, all dead, and Dirk Rossman standing in the
middle of the field. I am drawn to him by some unseen force into his
outstretched hand. Every night, as soon as his hand closes around my neck I
wake up.
I can’t tell if this is what happened when I ran
from his house or if it’s a vision of things to come, but I do know that I am
never going back to his house or the park around it ever again. I don’t even
know if I’ll finish the story I’m writing; these things only started happening
after I started writing it, after all. I do at least owe it to myself to finish
it since I’ve put in the effort to write it at all, but at the same time, in
the back of my mind, I have a premonition that finishing the story will cause
something more, something darker, to happen to me.
No comments:
Post a Comment