Serial

Diary Entry: October 7th

Trigger warning: This part contains explicit descriptions of murder, rape and/or torture, which may be disturbing or triggering for some readers.

October 7th

It had been too long since I saw her last. Almost a month.

Staying away hadn't been my intention. If I had my way, I'd see her every day. But there were finals at the university, and then I went out to Los Angeles to visit Sophia—I took her to Disneyland while I was there. Even offered to take Jane, too, but she was still annoyed at me for coming by without calling first. Hello? Sophia's my fucking daughter. I can see her whenever I want...even the courts say so—and then, of course, there were the girls.

All. Those. Girls.

They present themselves more often now than they had in the past. Sometimes I even have trouble keeping up with them. Maybe it's something in the air. Whatever it is, the compulsion is strong. My need to destroy, to teach them a lesson. I left a trail of bodies in my rearview mirror. Evil had been working overtime, and so had I.

This was the real reason I hadn't been by Emmy's lately. After all, she's something different. Unlike any of the others. The ultimate dream girl.

In fact, I've taken to dreaming about her most nights, my mind coming up with the most satisfying scenarios...

Do people know that some sleepers can control their dreams? Well, I'm one of them. I looked it up once on some Dream/Sleep institute site and it said it was a sign of high intelligence. I would have to agree. Even when I'm unconscious I'm in charge.

I'm not sure how I always know they're dreams, but I do, and after realization sets in, I live out my wildest fantasies. Some of them are bloody, violent. I do to her what I'd done to the others. Dominate her, punish her for the things she's done wrong. Other times, I'm sweet, the way a boyfriend should be. In these, Emmy is more like my partner-in-crime, like the Bonnie to my Clyde. And she likes me for me. The real me.

Oddly, these are my favorite kinds of dreams, and I always wake up turned on, trying to cling desperately to the fantasy my mind's created.

When I finally made my way to Emmy, it was like seeing a lover for the first time after being away at war. We could've been the only two who existed in the world for all I cared. In fact, I would've preferred it that way.

It was only by chance that I saw her that day—a clear sign we were supposed to be together. I'd stopped by her apartment earlier to see if she'd wanted to hang out, but nobody was around. I was getting her weekly schedules now, so I knew she wasn't at work either. She could've been anywhere.

I began to drive home, annoyed that my plan hadn't worked out the way I'd wanted it to...

When I saw her.

I couldn't imagine my luck, and grinned stupidly. Like a drunken fool.

She was sitting on a bench at the side of the road, a few blocks from her complex. Another girl, this one blond and young like Emmy, sat next to her, typing away on her phone. Neither of them talked to each other, almost like they were strangers, though I doubted it.

I drove past the bus stop and then made a U-turn, pulling up right in front of where they were waiting.

As soon as Emmy saw me, I could tell she was happy I was there. Her face lit up. Like I was her knight in shining armor come to save her. And I wanted to be that for her.