In which I understand

I shouldn't be writing. It's irresponsible. And silly. I doubt any of you care. And if you do, that's worse. If I could, I would delete this blog. Turn around and forget. Make everyone forget with me. But I can't. I can't talk to anyone. Can't deal with what's happened on my own. So I write. I write and I send it out to the internet, where I hope that no one who doesn't already know finds it. I write because I don't know what else to do.

Anya has been lying to me.

It isn't anything big, or anything I really blame her for, but I feel like I could have helped her more if she had told me everything. I probably couldn't have, but the thought's still there.

I'm at her house, by the way. She's sitting next to me, eating microwave popcorn and being the sulky new Anya I've come to know these past few weeks. And now I know why.

I thought that it would be a good idea to drop by her school today. Thought she'd like someone to walk home with. I got there a little early, and was just waiting. Nothing else to do but wait. That's when I saw him.

He was standing to the side of a tree, just staring at the school patiently. Just waiting too. I didn't see him at first. He was a few feet away, blending in. Just waiting. Then I looked over, and he looked at me too.

Do you remember seeing Star Wars for the first time? Specifically towards the beginning, with the entrance of Darth Vader. When I first saw that, it was as if all the air in the room had rushed out, and all that was left was this dark menacing figure. Nobody fictional or real had done this to me since.

Except today.

He looked mostly like I thought he would, of course. Tall, thin, dressed in a black business suit. He did have a face, like Anya had said, but I can't actually tell you what they looked like. The descriptions slipped from my head the moment I saw him, and none of his features were memorable.Except for his eyes.

Those eyes.

I can't even remember what they looked like, but they stared into me. They stared through me.I've forgotten them, but I'll always remember.

God, that doesn't even make sense.

I don't know how long we stared at each other. All I remember is snapping back to reality when someone took my hand. It was Anya.

"Don't worry." she said, "He won't do anything yet." And then we went home.

This isn't a bald man stalking Anya. It isn't human at all. Anya knew of course, there is no way not to know. But she didn't want to worry anyone too much. Didn't want anyone to call her crazy.

So she lied.

But she doesn't have to lie any more. I saw him, and I believe her now.

And it's my fault.

In which a stalker is cryptic

Anya went back to school today, which gave me a lot more free time but also a lot less money. And she's still one of the few people I know in D.C. I should really start trying to make friends. But anyway, her being at school means that I went job hunting some more. I ate lunch at the California Tortilla Factory. And from the corner of my eye, I saw Charles. Apparently he's following me now.

I admit, whenever I thought about confronting him, it was sort of like an action sequence. I'd address him, and then he'd start running and I'd have to chase him through the city or something. Ok, so maybe I watch too many films. I'm a huge fan of the dramatic. Which is probably why talking to him was pretty anticlimactic. I picked up my burrito, and sat down next to him. He looked up, and we had this convesation:

Charles: Is this the first time you've seen me?
Me: No. I've seen you a lot.
Charles: (curses a bit) I'm sorry.
Me: For following Anya and me, or getting caught?
Charles: Both I guess. I don't mean either of you harm.
Me: You're scaring Anya. So whether or not you mean harm, you're certainly causing it. If I see you again, I'm calling the cops.
Charles: Who do you think called me in the first place?(I didn't have much to say to that) Look, I would do this the standard way if I could, but any interaction with Anya could make things worse. Until we know that we can help her, we have to have as little contact as possible.
Me: We? (he doesn't answer) And what are you talking about?
Charles: I can't tell you. But I'm the good guy. Please just trust me on this.
(So this is paraphrased from a fifteen minute conversation. But I think I got the basic gist of it down)

Right, like I'm gonna trust a stalker. He left then, and I finished my burrito and left shortly afterwards. And I don't care what he said, I am calling the cops if I see him again.

Still, lots of questions. And he didn't really answer any, either. I want to hit him with a shovel.

Hard.

In which the cherry blossoms bloom

So, babysitting Anya's still my only job, no one seems to be able to track down the guy who's following her, Theresa is recovering but still not quite in perfect shape, and I'm starting to get these really awful stomach cramps every once in a while. And yet, I'm feeling pretty good. Why?

Because the cherry blossom festival has started.

This is the first time that I've gotten to see them. Mom moved to D.C. during the cherry blossom festival last year, but I didn't visit her until the summer. And I figured it would be pretty, but I really wasn't prepared for just how gorgeous this city is at springtime.

Yesterday, I took Anya to a 'Stand for Japan' event that was pretty much a charity thing for the relief effort going on in Japan right now. It was really really cold and my California sensibilities caused me to not realize that my coat wasn't warm enough. And they started an hour later than they said they would. But it put a lot of things into perspective hearing people talk about the earthquakes and tsunami and nuclear plant issue. I can get pretty apathetic at times. I get so wrapped up in what's going on with my life, or my next writing project, or whatever that I forget what's going on with me. Which is awful because when I do pay attention, I'd like to think I'm a pretty empathic person. I really do try to help.

Lately, I've been worried about Anya, and my lack of a proper job, and how I flunked out of school while people overseas were dying. I can't really blame myself, though. It's a human thing to do and it's a crazy world out there. And I can't really do much, being in America and all. All I can really do is donate a ton, which I did after the speakers had finished.

When all the talking was done, we took a walk around Tidal Basin where most of the trees were. Anya didn't seem to want to go at first, since it was a long walk and I had accidentally given her a fear of trees. But I did manage to get her to go, and I don't think that either of us regretted it.

Those flowers were the most beautiful thing that I have ever seen. I really suck at descriptions, so I feel like whatever I say will just make it sound silly. But it was about sunset when we started and the light was bouncing off of the clear lake while we were completely surrounded by white and pale pink blossoms. Some were low hanging, or dipped into the water. And there's just something about those trees. They are just so... hopeful somehow. And I felt like despite all the horrible stuff in the world, there would be an end somehow.

I think Anya felt it too because as we walked she began acting a bit more like herself. By the end of it she was running ahead of me, talking a million miles an hour and actually smiling for the first time in days. And she almost pushed me into the water. She can be a serious turd sometimes. The whole thing wore us both out, which is why I'm talking about all of this today instead of yesterday. I think that we needed that though. Everything has been so tense lately.

Then again, there are good reasons for that. Just this evening, I swear I saw Charles passing by Anya's house.

In which things get worse

I was going to post Sunday. I was going to post Monday too. But posting's been a bit far from my mind. And nothing sudden has happened. It's all just started to slowly decline. Everything that's happened in these past three days wasn't really a surprise. There were signs everywhere. I just only saw them once they got really obvious.

For one thing, I'm writing this at my house. I haven't been to Anya's house since Sunday. Then again, neither has Anya. She's been spending time over here while her mother deals with some things. I really hate to talk bad about Theresa because I really like her. So I won't. You really don't need to know her story. Just know that people deal with stress differently. The way Theresa deals with it just often leads to more problems. Mom's been checking in with her, so she'll probably be ok.

The whole thing with her mom hasn't been helping Anya, though. She hasn't told me about seeing anyone any more, but she doesn't really talk a lot. She just sits around and draws. And yeah, the drawings are pretty creepy. I mean, it's not standard 'SEES ME' junk or anything, but the pied piper in some of her drawings has a few too many arms. The pictures are creepy, but the silence is worse. This girl used to talk my ear off and run around in circles and throw mud at me (ok, so that only happened once). Now, she barely says anything.

I'm trying to help her out, since Theresa's not really in any shape to. But no matter what I do she just seems to slip farther and farther away from everyone.

I don't know what to do.

In which I actually see my house

In case anyone noticed, my layout did in fact change. I was talking to a guy about my blog, and he said that it was a bit bright. So now I'm playing around with it. I admit, I just slapped something together before. I kind of like what I have right now. Of course, it might still be a bit bright. I'm bad at that sort of thing.

The quote now in my description is from Walt Whitman, apparently. I'm not really that cultured or anything. I just hang around Dupont Circle a lot, and that quote (more of it too, but it didn't fit) is on the entrance to the Metro. I've always liked it. And my title seemed a little lonely.

So, Theresa does work a bit on Sunday, but she has Saturdays off, so I actually went home today. And talked to my mother, who I missed. And did the laundry, which I didn't miss. But it was sort of nice getting away from all the babysitting and intrigue. I'm still worried about Anya, and I'm still spinning conspiracy theories in my head. But ultimately, I liked being able to forget about it for a little. Does that make me a bad person? I don't know.

In which I have to step it up

So, I don't remember which one it was but in a previous blog post I mentioned that if five people were following I might actually care about what I was spewing out onto this blog. Well, that time has come. Five people are following me. Well, six technically. But David's following me twice. So it's really five.

Of course, I don't really have much to say. Well, that's slightly inaccurate. I have a lot of things to say. But whenever I sit in front of the computer, I wonder what exactly I should be typing? How much do my five viewers need to know?

This has gotten worse given that I was supposed to use this blog about Jensen Falls. And I'm still working on it, but with everything that's going on with Anya it just doesn't seem all that important.

She's not making it up, by the way. I thought she was for a while, and she said she saw the guy again yesterday. I haven't seen this mysterious tall guy, which makes part of my mind completely paranoid. But I am starting to believe that something weird is going on.

You see, today I took Anya and three of her friends to the Smithsonian museums. Well, the american history museum. We were going to go to others but spent so much time there that they were closing by the time we were ready to switch. The thing is, as we were heading out of Julia Childs' kitchen, I was just sort of looking around the crowd.

I saw that Charles guy.

And he wasn't just enjoying awesome history exhibits. He was being lurky, and trying to look inconspicuous. Which didn't seem to be working, but it did take me a few hours to notice him. He must be doing something right. So I didn't tell any of the kids, but sort of kept my eye on him. And he followed us. Not just him, though. Once I started looking for it, there were at least two other guys who were always in the same general area as us.

Now, I don't know. The police seemed to not think that Charles was a horrible guy, since they let him in while questioning Anya. Maybe he's a P.I. or something who is just really creepy and whose methods include stalking. But I don't like being followed, and I certainly don't like someone following a ten year old.

I feel like I somehow fell into a conspiracy. You would think it would be exciting. It's not.

In which Spring Break gives me more money

Spring break started for Anya today, which means that instead  of job hunting I was hanging out with her while her mother worked. I think Theresa would normally just let her stay by herself, but given the circumstances I have made a sort of semi-permanent home on their couch. The police came over today, as well as a weird guy in a brown coat. They introduced him as Charles somethingorother, but aside from that he just lurked in a corner and looked spooky. Since this whole mess is because Anya saw something spooky, I'm not really sure why he was there. It just freaked everybody out.

Anya's got it the worst, which makes sense. She seems afraid to leave the house, and had a pretty bad nightmare last night about black walls which rose out of the ground, the feeling of being surrounded by the dead, and her sister turning into a doll.

Apparently, what woke her up was the realization that she doesn't have a sister. Funny how dreams are.

I think I'm going to shove her out of the house at some point. I mean, I don't want her to play in alleyways or anything, but going over to a friend's house seems like a better alternative to sitting in her room being scared of trees.