Anna in the window?

This is the image I saw in the window tonight. It still creeps me out when I look at this.

I took it with my phone. It was the closest thing I could grab, b/c the last time I saw the image, it disappeared when I got up to look out the window.

I know it's Halloween and everything, but this is my backyard. There shouldn't be anybody back there.

And sometimes, when I look out the front window, I see a silhouette by the pine trees. I don't know if the light and shadows are playing tricks, but I first started seeing this shadow last week. Maybe I really am losing my mind.

But this can't be Anna. I don't believe in ghosts, but I don't know what this is.

I saw her again

I really am beginning to wonder if I am losing my mind from grief, or if Kate and Anna's murders have somehow made me come unglued. Maybe I've popped a gasket in my head, and what I'm seeing is something I wish I could see so badly that it is coming true. Or at least making me see a vision that seems real. Am I the only one who can see her?

Friends and family keep calling, leaving voice mail messages since the funeral. Checking up on me to see how I'm doing. "Please call me, Michael," my mother had said on the VM. She's 82 years old and she's worried about me. I'm the one who should be worried about her. She's in a condo all alone with that yappy little dog Kate insisted on getting her so she wouldn't feel lonely moving into a smaller place. Everytime I see that little rodent, I want to kick it across the room. Maybe then it will finally shut up.

Seems that work goes on without me. My boss called and said that they've gotten everything under control with the Johnson case, that I can come back to work when I'm ready. There's no rush, he said. Of course there's no rush to get me back. The new golden boy Anthony will run with my case that I'd built and win. I put the work into building the Johnson defense, finding the expert witnesses, collecting testimonies and lining all the ducks up in a row. Hell, I don't know how many long hours and endless days I've put into this firm hoping to make partner by the time I was 40. Then by 45. What's next? Wait until I'm 50? By then, it won't make a difference. I still can't believe that Kate and Anna are gone, and our dreams of an early retirement have vanished.

I'm too old to start over. Who's gonna want an overweight, balding workaholic who never had enough time for his family?

My dreams

I have to write this down. No one would believe me if I didn't, and I'm not sure I'd believe it myself after what I saw last night.

I thought I saw Anna last night standing in the backyard, but she couldn't be there. She's dead.

Maybe it was the vodka. Maybe I'm having a nightmare. If it was one, I couldn't wake up from it no matter how hard I tried.

I dreamt that I saw Anna outside my living room window last night. She looked in the window at me, her face seemed so sad, I don't even have the words to describe it. I'm so terrible at this.

She looked in and saw me. I smiled at her, because in my dream, she seemed so alive, so there in the darkness. She looked like an angel to me. And then her face lit up like it used to when she was younger, back before high school. Back before the fighting started.

I remember being happy at that moment - seeing her smile back at me. For one second, Anna was alive and standing in the back yard and smiling again. I felt like she was back with me and that we could sit and talk about boys and school and her girlfriend drama like we used to. Oh God, why did you take her from me?

I wanted to get up off the couch and let her in. She had to be cold out there, she was wearing her favorite dress - the pink and white sundress that made her look an angel. My angel. But I couldn't get up. I couldn't move, and I wanted to let her in, but I think the only thing that moved was my hand. I reached out to her, but I couldn't get up. And then she was gone, as if she was never there.

After I awoke, it was daylight. I had a killer headache, because I can't seem to stop drinking. Drinking to forget. Drinking to forget the crime scene pictures. Drinking to forget that Anna and Kate are gone. Drinking to forget that I am all alone now. How cruel that dream was. Can I drink to stop the dreams?

I should stop this. It's torture. And I need to figure out what to do next.