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me so easily. 
    Sleep seemed highly unlikely. What sounded good was a kickboxing class. That not being possible, I grabbed my iPod, shoved the earbuds into my ears, and turned it on full blast. I walked over to my desk, turning on the small desk lamp. Messy piles of half-finished sketches covered the top of my desk. Drawing, painting, sculpting, and writing poetry always helped release any pent-up emotions. Something I needed right then. Grabbing my sketchpad, I sat down and started to draw, the pencil moving swiftly across the paper.
    About an hour later, I heard a knock on the door. I plucked one earpiece from my ear. 
    “Em, I made some soup and sandwiches, if you want some?” 
    I hesitated, my heart softening, but my pride and stubbornness overshadowed everything. 
    “I’m not hungry.” 
    I could hear him outside my door and could feel he wanted to say more, but he didn’t. After a moment, he walked away.
    The happenings of the day continued to roll around in my head as my hand absently moved across the page. The TV blared from the other room. Mark was watching the sports channel, but I wondered how much he was paying attention to it. I was sure he was going over every word Weiss and Mitchell had said. I bit down on my lip stopping the tears that wanted to come. 
    I looked down at my sketchpad. My mind had been on other things as I drew so I really didn’t think I was drawing anything particular. But, through the abstract lines, there was a pair of eyes staring back at me. I immediately recognized them. Even without the piercing, green color, there was no doubt whose eyes I had sketched. Why in the hell did I draw his eyes? I put my head in my hands. I couldn’t handle analyzing one more thing right now. I was so tired of being scared and feeling lost and alone. I leaped up, switched off my lamp, and crawled into bed, feeling drained and exhausted.
    ***
    I stood in a shadowy forest of oak and ash. Wind ruffled through the dense trees, making them creak and moan. A gust of wind rippled over my skin, and I drew up my hood and pulled my dark cloak closer to my body. Flames danced rhythmically in front of me. I huddled closer to the fire, feeling its warmth and strength as it rose higher. The sun met the horizon and darkness was slithering in around me. 
    Anxiety tapped nervously on my neck. Something out there was coming for me, and it was getting closer. 
    A warning crept into my body, and I felt eyes on me from all around, as if the trees themselves were staring at me. The branches swayed, creating bended, gnarled skeleton shadows. An unnerving guttural growl echoed over the wind. Anxiety crept down my spine. I spun around, searching frantically for the threat. 
    They were coming for me. I had to run.
    A deep, menacing laugh ricocheted off the rock walls beyond the trees. I whipped around again, a scream catching in my throat. Electric green eyes were only inches from my face, looking directly into mine, dancing with menacing glee. 
    “Time to join your mother.”
    ***
    I gasped as I woke, my legs and arms thrashing. Sweat soaked my tank top, making it cling to my chest. Chills clutched my spine as I got my bearings and tried to calm myself. Leaning over, I turned on my nightstand light. The darkness created too many dark corners and   shadowy figures, which my imagination wanted to make into monsters. I leaned my head against my headboard. 
    Why were the eyes in my dream the same color as the guy’s eyes from the police station? He had unnerved me, and the fact that he had been out on Delphi Road only made me more uneasy. Did he follow me? Did he know where I lived or did he just happen to live out here as well? He wasn’t just passing through town—he was too familiar with the police officer. They let him go, so he couldn’t be too dangerous to society, right? Maybe he forgot to pay a parking ticket and I was making way too much out of this. But then why couldn’t I get rid of a nagging fear in