All of this compelled me to consider embarking in new, uncertain and unknown destinations.My obsession was gradually growing inside me until I could not resist it anymore. I felt that it was driving me so crazy that I couldn’t resist researching his identity. At the same time, I started to have some weird stalker fantasies about him. Where did he come from? Who was he? These thoughts were so compelling that I was obsessed by my own erotic dreams about him.With a good deal of trepidation I started to investigate, just by myself through an internet service, and I was surprised how quickly I was able to discovered who he actually was, where he lived, where he worked, what he did for his free time, everything.Amazingly, it turned out that he lived not so far away from me, which led me to obsess even more, I could not sleep, I could not concentrate at the office; I had to meet him in person.I instigated a plan to insert myself into his life. The first time, I sat far away from him in his. "General --'s wife," and she told me his name but I will not use it since the family has suffered enough indignities after choosing to settle here when the fighting ended.I pulled open the carriage door and sitting in the back were two very proper matrons, both looking very displeased, and on the other side the woman who had been raped, still sniveling into her handkerchief.From behind me, the girl presented the two women and then said, "And Annie, poor thing."The older woman, and by far the haughtier, said something in German and the girl beside me replied quickly."She wants to know why you struck the major," the girl said."Who?" I asked, puzzled both by the question and the calmness of the two women facing me."Him," said the girl, poking at the body sprawled at her feet. "He was an acquaintance, perhaps a friend. I am not sure. He was traveling with us."I closed the door to the carriage, took the girl by the arm and led her up to the front of the rig. "Explain," I said."We were on.
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