I just had the craziest dream. Dreams I claimed were crazy before has nothing against this one. Let me tell you. Mind that it's been a couple of days since so I may have forgotten some details.
It started when I met this guy (I would call him Bob henceforth). If I remember correctly, Bob was an employee of some store I was in (I can't remember which). He could be a security guard though, I can't tell. What I do remember was that he was nice. Nice enough that I trusted him with my house keys. I think he suggested that I change my lock and I took him up for it. I accepted the change of lock without hesitation. He handed me my new keys and I thanked him and left.
Then I got home. And I saw him outside my door. I realized right then what was about to happen. After all, I change out my lock to the one he gave me. He has direct access to my house. How stupid, right? Then a thought came over me. I could lock myself in the bedroom. After all, I only changed the front door lock. So I hurried to the bedroom, locked the door, and watched him seamlessly unlock the front door. But then I realized, I lent him my keys. All of my keys. I figured he was smart enough to make duplicates because he was gone for a minute when I gave it to him earlier. I was right. He got inside the bedroom.
And I changed my demeanor. I tried to shove fear aside and maintained my composure. I didn't want to spook him. If I appear scared or angry, he might do something right away. I needed to buy time. Instead, I treated him like a friend coming to visit. I entertained him. I sensed that he was scared too. Being an empath allows me to read the room and I was reading him. He's not violent. I don't think he's there to kill me, or to purposely hurt me. I think he was genuinely just looking for connection. He wanted a friend. He wanted to be understood. So obliged. In my head, I concluded that he was just an insecure loser. I could flatter him to buy some time. I could listen to him complain about his life.
I was right. He calmed his nerves. He was happy that I listened. I served him food and offered him a seat in the living room. I listened and he talked. He talked a lot. I can't remember what he talked about. It was daytime when he arrived, and it's close to night time now. I remember that in between all that flattering I managed to sneak in phone calls and text messages, desperately asking for help. I called Aaron first but as expected, he didn't answer. I texted him but he didn't reply. I texted a few other people (Can't remember which people), including one of my best friends. I didn't call this friend. I knew he was a new father. I didn't want to take up his time. I just texted him that I was in trouble and that he should get in touch with Aaron so he could help me. I was confident that this friend would read my message and inform Aaron. All I had to do was wait some more time.
Suddenly it's night time and nobody has come. In my head I just kept buying some more time but I knew at some point Bob will get impatient. Whatever he came there to do has to be done. I'm not going to go through the details even though this part is so detailed in my head that I couldn't forget about it to this day. All this time I was just hoping Aaron would finally arrive. And I imagined Aaron killing Bob if he caught us in the act.
I let him in. And it hurt.
But I didn't show Bob that I was disgusted and hurt. I wanted him to remain calm and collected.
And then the following day, maybe. Or probably just later that evening but the sun's out anyway. (Weird, yeah)
I may have suggested to go out on a date. I remember texting Aaron to meet us in ATC because Bob and I are going there. While in ATC, I treated Bob like a boyfriend. We walked around like it was just a random afternoon. Then I remember I would make eye contact with everybody I would bump into. I would make signs of help but nobody would stop and inquire. I bumped into another friend. We locked eyes and I forced myself to cry. I thought if he saw me crying, he'll probably figure out that something is wrong. But he didn't say anything. He didn't do anything. He knew I was faking it. "She doesn't cry", he's probably thinking.
Finally I saw policemen lurking around. I knew Aaron sent for them. He's probably somewhere in the mall. Bob saw them and tried to avoid them. I was still in his arms at this point when we finally bumped into them. I didn't even see Aaron.
This part was hazy because I don't remember anything else. I just remember THINKING. I just know that they didn't have a case against Bob because the law's excuse was that I let him in. He didn't force his way. I gave him my keys. I allowed him to duplicate my keys. I used the change of lock that he gave me. And when he came, I treated him as a guest. Nothing was forced. I didn't scream. I didn't cry. I didn't panic because all that time instead of reacting, I was strategizing. I was buying off time. Always just buying off time. But nobody came anyway.
I remember thinking that I was completely alone in all of this. That nobody will come to my rescue in the end. That only I could save myself. I also remember people telling me "Why didn't you scream? If you screamed, your neighbors would have heard you. They would have come and saved you." Would they? I stopped and cried. I broke down. Will the neighbors come? Why didn't I just scream? Why didn't I just cried? I felt suffocated. Nobody could understand why I did what I did. People just questioned why I didn't cry. Why I didn't scream. That all I did, all that meticulous planning and observation was unnecessary. But the worst part is, nobody gets it. Nobody understood why I did that. I suddenly remembered the book "The Stranger" by Albert Camus, when the protagonist was charged of murder and instead of reading the evidence, they were asking him why didn't cry at his mother's funeral instead.
I woke up and I was scared that all this THINKING, all this PLANNING, all this BUYING TIME, is pointless. Nobody will fully understand my thoughts and I'll spend an eternity explaining it in vain.
Maybe I should just let the world burn.
Let the fire consume me.
Let the pain hurt me.
Maybe if I embrace being hurt, I'll cry.
And if I genuinely cry, maybe people will finally listen to me.
Once they do, maybe they will understand.
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