Let's start with the main issues of my thoughts: dreaming.
Now, I know what you're thinking, "OH BOY HERE WE GO AGAIN", but alas, it's not that simple. Well, okay, it's about that simple, but maybe not so.
For the past month or so, I've been having these weird dreams. I would be in my house, or, shall I say what was left of it. It looked as though it had just been worn down to the point of an eroded skeleton of only walls and partly a roof; there was snow everywhere. But, everything was dirty. Almost as though it was snowing... soot? Which, also makes no sense, as there are no buildings around my town that produce enough soot to thoroughly pollute the snow. This detail is minor, I'm sure. So, to continue...
I would be the same age, be in my same day's clothing. I would just wonder my house aimlessly, until I reached the living room, where, surprise, fucking TallGuy is waiting. And that's literally all he did: waited. If I approached him, he just cast me a look (oh god, that sounds hilariously stupid considering his facial features), and directed his attention elsewhere. The only thing I can compare it to is awkwardly waiting to see the doc in the waiting room. And then sharing a look with a man who's been stalking you for months, and you both know it.
Maybe not as common as it sounds above.
I think the only lead this dream gave to me was where he directed his attention. My older brother's bedroom. Which, thinking back to my dreams, his room had solid walls around it, and a door. Said door was always shut, alas. When i went to open it, it's almost as though the words of TallGuy hit me in the back, as though he were trying to stop me. All he would tell would be "Don't". So, I didn't, in any of my dreams.
This brings me to a side thought of TallGuy's role in all of this. Whose side is he on? He's yet to hurt me or anyone I know, and no one is displaying signs of the 'normal' victom. All he's done is demenstrated his love for singing, and for busting in my dreams like the damned 'Bed Intruder' (oh Christ, that song is my guilty pleasure). Although, I've read he can be a damned sneaky bastard, so I'll still stay on high alert... Moving on.
My brother moved out right at the beginning of Augest; right when this shit started. Something's in that damn room. He for some reason, locked his door the day he left. No keys, just a nasty combination lock stuck to the handle. I've tried the lock, to no avail.
I need to call my brother, see if he knows anything. Of course, knowing his elitest, non-socialble attitude, this may be hard to do. That, and he is terrible at picking up his phone when the time comes.
I'm starting to think leaving on Friday may be a rash decsion. Maybe I should wait longer. Thoughts, anyone?