Beautiful Picked Notes

It's fall in the northern hemisphere and where I live it's a nice, warm fall. My subconscious apparently decided to screw that and I ended up with a night in which almost every single dreaming moment took place in a snow-filled winter setting. So did tonight's most memorable dream.

It started off with the unsettling feeling that it's a nightmare. There's the dreaming equivalent of "My gut tells me something bad is going to happen", it's got "Nightmare" written all over it but you just don't know it 'cause you don't know it's a dream.
In reality, I'm out of school since June. In the dream, I find myself walking my way from the bus stop up to the school buildings and somebody's watching me. Without ever looking in his direction, I know where he is. Later in the dream, I would also know where he lives.
I walk past him, I'm feeling cold. I make my way to the school and not much happens for a while. Our school buildings are significantly bigger than what reality has to offer, but that's a recurring theme for me. Then there's a gap in the fabric.
Again, I find myself walking up from the bus stop. Again, I know he's watching me. I feel even more unsettled than last time, but this time my girlfriend is with me and I decide not to take it. He's watching me from the first or second story of the building all the time, but I seemingly know that he lives in its basement. To give him a scare, I bang a twig against his basement window. I hear chatter about the situation, acoustically it is close to me, when my head percieves it like it's further away. Its content appears to revolve around "Yeah, he's a weirdo" and "I know him for years, he's strange". Nothing happens, another gap.
The same scene again, this time I'm alone. I walk past him, but this time I see him. He stares at me from his window, that goes low enough to allow all of his torso down to his waist to be visible. He stares. Just stares. There's a cold chill running down my back as I write this down. I walk past him just a bit. Another gap.
The scene restarts once again. All is the same, but this time he grins. His grin shows not happines, it ridicules me. It despises me. A grin so oversized and inhuman, Picasso could have done no better. It's not cheesy or goofy, it is nothing that a human could produce. And it scares me.
The scene restarts again. He grins as I start to boil with fright and anger. I try to turn around and not walk past him, but I can't. In my desperation, I pick snow from the ground and hurl it at him. I hit him - he vanishes.
Finally, a different setting forms. I'm not alone, my girlfriend is with me. We are not in a familiar place. It's a city street with the charme of a TV set. A long, curved street with midrise buildings to both sides of it, the front walls about 10 yards off the road with green grass between the asphalt and the concrete. A single bus stop on the street ahead of us.
We're walking along and nothing seems out of the ordinary. Her coat is beautiful. Then I see him, 50, maybe 70 yards down the street ahead. He's watching us through a pair of binoculars. In spite of the distance, I see his grin. Occasionally, he waves at us. When he does, his grin stretches even more, goes from ugly to hideous. He looks a little younger than what I had in mind from seeing him at the window and his face provokes a distant reminiscence of a friend of mine, who looks somewhat alike. I resist an urge to scream and instead drag my girlfriend to turn around and walk the other way. He's there, too. 50 meters away, he looks at us. Just the same. We turn around again. He's there. His face is getting more and more sardonic with that malicious grin. Slowly he comes closer. He does not walk, he just comes closer. Ahead of us and behind us, he is always there when we turn. To our sides, there are wall-to-wall buildings framing us in. He gets closer and closer. I remember the last window-scene and pick up snow to throw at him, but he remains unfazed. My girlfriend has taken a rather passive role and just watches. It appears as if she isn't terrified at all, when I'm going out of my mind with fright and this amazingly uncanny feeling under his terrible smirking.
He comes closer still, there appears to be no way out. The closer he gets, the more often I momentarily feel my real body lying in bed, like a glitch in the dream. Suddenly, when he should have reached us eventually, two cats jump between me and my girlfriend. In my state, I kick them, they run off. I wake up.

After waking up next to my sleeping girlfriend, there was obviously the feeling that you have after a nightmare. The anxiety, the sweating. But there was a noise. A dampened voice. I really didn't want to listen any closer to that, but I couldn't help hearing a man's voice say "Where is she!?" in a rather angry and aggressive tone, over and over again in periodic intervals of about 5 seconds. I did RCs like crazy, but I was awake. I sat up in bed, drinking some water. The voice started to fade, I stopped hearing the angry words, but the noise remained. Loud and clear. Laying back down, the noise started losing volume and becoming softer. And then, about two minutes after waking up, I realized it was my sleeping girlfriend's breathing.