The Boy of My Nightmares
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He's here again. I've been watching him from my window for the past three years. Everyday he wanders down there by that willow tree. I know he sees me up here, and at times I feel as though he's watching me.
I've grown to him, become comfortable with his stares. But it doesn't make it right, it doesn't make any of this right. He shouldn't be allowed to stalk me everyday and peer into my room.
He scares me. There's something very threatening about him, but there is something protective about him as well. They are two opposite characteristics, but they both fit him so well.
Now the dreams. They don't seem to go away. And they all started three years ago, before I even caught him outside my house by the tree. They seemed more like nightmares with their gory aura, but instead of scaring me, they brought me to peace.
I was starting to scare myself. I hadn't yet talked to the mysterious stalker of mine, but I knew something wasn't right, and my life would change for good.
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