I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I can't find any place that's safe long enough to post anything. I've been driving almost constantly for the past several days.

I'm so tired but I can't stop. Once I got going, I couldn't make myself take my foot off the accelerator. Nothing feels safe. I think I've reached the point where I'm so exhausted that I can barely feel anything normally anymore. And I keep seeing that skinny bastard out of the corner of my eye.

He's there right now.

Trying to break me again.

Got to go.

I'm alive. And sort of sane.

And I found something.

But I've got to get out of New Jersey. Heading south again. I'll post when I find a safe place to stop.

Repeat Resolution

I'm going back to my mother's house.

It's stupid.

It's reckless.

It's probably going to get me mind raped again.

And I don't care.

What else can I do?

I don't even know if I'll find any answers.

But...damn it, I just...

I don't care what happens to me anymore. I just want to find answers.

So...cheers.

Functional Brevity

I'm sorry I've been so quiet lately, people. I...guess I wasn't as functional as I thought.

I remember very little of the past week. What I do remember is a lot of sitting in the car, staring at nothing. And my head hurting. It pretty much always hurts, now.

Huh. Another thing my mom had.

I'm becoming a lot like her.

...Fuck.

Thinking

I'm...functional. Sort of. Oh God...these past few days..at least I coudln't remember what happened after my home burned down.

But I can remember everything about this.

I got to New Jersey on the 6th, and I made that quick post. Then I drove through the town, getting lost a couple times, until I found my mother's old house.

It was a two-story, old-fashioned sort of place. Brick, blinds drawn on the windows, grass overgrown in the front yard. Bit of graffiti sprayed on the side. The driveway was potholed like mad, so i pulled up in front instead.

The neighborhood was very quiet. there were'nt all that many other houses nearby, and I couldn't see any signs of life from any of them except for a car here and there. It was like the whole place was holding its breath, waiting for something. I could feel that awful creeping at hte back of my neck, but no one jumped out of hte bushes, so I made my way to the front door.

It was open.

And I, being the complete and utter IDIOT that I am, walked inside.

It was dark inside, I couldn't see much, and every step I took seemed ot rattle the house. There were no sounds besides my own. by the time I crossed the hallway into the next room, I was alreayd shaking like mad.

and he was there.

Waiting for me.

I remember freezing, staring at that blank face, those hideously long arms that slithered down his sides. I remember his tentacles plunging forward and wrapping themselves around me. It was dark, it was so dark, and I couldn't hear anything but the sound of my own voice screamign.

Then I heard him.

It was...it was like a thunderstorm going off inside my mind, a voice that shook hte foundations of hte world. I could feel my ears bleeding, and then I coudln't feel anything at all but the sound of his voice.

He wormed his way into my mind, it hurt, it hurt so much, he was telling me things, things I couldn't understand, telling me I would be his, telling me to serve him, call him He That Is, telling me I had no choice, that this was hte way the world would end, with all of us devoured by his power and drowned in our own fear.

But...

I don't know how.

But I said no.

He...he didn't like that.

I kept saying no.

He kept pounding at my mind, whether it was to turn me into one of his servants or just to drive me completely insane, I don't know. But...but I couldn't...I couldn't say yes.

It felt like eternity. One small speck against the crushing power of the dark.

Finally, he...he pulled away. It felt like someone yanking a sword out of my gut. I came to, and it was dark and I couldn't see but i was alive. I stumbled out of that house, got into my car, and cried. It was a long time before I could make myself get moving.

I haven't left hte town. It's stupid and I'm just asking for him to come after me again, but I can't leave yet.

I think...I think I understand something.

"I am not yours." That's what I kept thinking. That's what...that's what my mom said. Her drawings, her ramblings, every so often, she'd say that.

I...I have to go. I need to think things over.

hes gone i cant haer him hes out of my head why how how am i still alive oh god my headmyhead

iamnotyoursiamnotyoursiamnotyoursiwillneverbeyoursyoucannottakemeyoucannotcontrolmeyoumaybreakmymindandmybodyandmysoulbutyouwillnotmakemeoneofyours

getout

nonononogetoutofmyheadgetoutofmyheadgetoutofmyheadyoucanthavemegetoutgetoutgetoutGETOUT

Arrival Time

Here I am in Jersey, right on the outskirts of my mother's hometown.

It's quite small, a little place right outside of Newark. I won't say exactly where; from reading the blogs, I know that this state is a bloody hotbed of proxy activity.

This is just a quick update. I'll try and write some more tonight. First order of business is to visit the house where my mother grew up.

Oh fun.

Highway Boredom

Driving all day is...very dull.

I guess I should be glad it was boring. That's preferable to "AAGH FIRE DEATH MY ORGANS ARE BEING SPLATTERED ONTO TREES" stuff, yeah?

I'm taking it slowly. If I floored the car, I would be in NJ by now, but I don't know what sort of unholy havoc that would wreak on the engine. Plus, I'm trying to psyche myself up for this. I don't want to just barrel into NJ, hop out of my on-fire car, and shout, "Hello, Garden State! Tell me your secrets!"

God, I'm getting very tired of these cheap hotels. At the same time, I'm not desperate enough to try and camp out in my car. I mean, look where that got me last time...

Right. Anyway. I'm going to try and sleep, and I should be arriving at my destination tomorrow. I'll try to come up with a plan in the meantime.

Wedding Dreams

I had an...interesting dream last night.

It started out as a wedding. One of my best friends was getting married, and he showed up to the wedding in casual wear. No one seemed to mind, and I have to admit that this would be rather in-character for him.

Rings were swapped, vows were exchanged, the clergyman made it through without any sign of a speech impediment, and the dream moved onto the reception.

Then I saw a tall man in the crowd with no face. I think you can guess where this is going.

He just stood there, staring at me, surrounded by people who didn't seem to see him. Then his arms stretched and morphed into thousands of tentacles and began to tear the walls apart. The ceiling started to fall in, people were screaming, and my friend, my very best friend, the one I've been in love with for years, was ripped apart and thrown aside like a doll.

There was so much blood...

And all I could do was stand there, watching as the nightmare spiraled into fire and death, hearing my dad's voice yelling at me to run and not look back. I couldn't move, I couldn't think, not even as one of his tentacles wrapped itself around my throat and started to squeeze...

I woke myself up screaming.

So far, there's been no sign of the Slender Man outside my dreams. What is he waiting for? Is he distracted with all the other runners and fighters? Is he just playing with me, waiting for my mind to break on its own?

I can't let that happen. Not before I find out why he was after my mother, why he stalked her from childhood. Maybe there wasn't anything special about her. Maybe that's just him, his sick, twisted method of interaction.

But...I think there's more to this.

Time to start up the crappy car and start driving.

Transportation Arrangements

Well, I got my car. It's a 1997 Honda Accord, and I got it for about $2000 (which meant it has about a billion miles on it).

It's a piece of crap, but I'm armed with a car manual and checklist of things to watch out for, so if something goes wrong, I should be able to handle it.

And if all else fails...duct tape.

I'm writing from the "lounge" of another truly awful hotel. I've lost track of how many bugs I've seen crawling on the walls, but at least nobody asks questions. I'm a bit...conspicuous with my face all cut up, so hopefully those will heal soon. I'm just glad the doctors didn't ask about the scars on my arms; I would've had a hard time explaining. "Oh, don't mind those, doctor, I think they're just remnants of an eldritch abomination trying to kill me. Nothing to worry about."

Right then. New Jersey, here I come.

Decision Expansion

So, about that car.

I made my decision to stop relying on public transportation and get a car after I was jumped by a proxy while on a bus.

That sentence sounds incredibly grammatically awkward, but I can't bring myself to make it better.

I'm...not exactly sure what happened. I was sitting in my seat near the front, staring out the window and trying to stay awake, when...God, I don't really know. But somebody punched me and there was blood and it hurt hurt hurt and people were screaming and...

It was not fun.

When my brain had finished processing "punched in the head, somebody's trying to kill you," I realized I was pinned in the aisle of the bus, and some big guy was reaching for my throat. He was huge, way stronger than me. I tried to scramble away, but he got his fingers around my throat and was squeezing and I couldn't breathe it hurt couldn't breathe

Then I...

I don't know...

I just remember there was this hideously loud sound and crashing. Maybe the bus crashed. Maybe we slammed into something. Hell, maybe a Goddamn unicorn ran in front of us and impaled the bus on its horn. I don't know. But I found myself lying face down in glass and metal. There was blood all over the place, people crying. I couldn't move, and everything hurt so damn bad...Somebody came over and look at me, felt my pulse.

They held my hand.

It...whoever that person was...thank you. I wish I could've seen your face.

It seemed like forever, but eventually I heard the sound of the ambulances. They started loading people up. I think I passed out as they came for me.

I woke up in the hospital a while later. The accident was on Monday night, and I came to early Tuesday morning, spent the next few days recuperating. I'm lucky. I came away with just a cracked rib and my face all cut up, but some people on that bus...they didn't make it.

God, I feel...I feel so guilty. If I hadn't been on that bus...

So yeah.

Getting a car and getting the hell out of this state. New Jersey's my destination. Why?

Because my mother's from New Jersey. I don't know what I'll find there, but I'm planning to head over to her hometown and...do...something. I guess. I'm just flailing around here.

So that's been my week.

I've had better.

Decision

Two things.

I'm getting a car.

I'm going to New Jersey.

Will post why later.

Thought Swilling

I've lost time again.

But this time, it isn't because of some eldritch abomination screwing with my brain or my memories revolting or my brain going pphbth because it can't process what happened.

Nope, nothing like that.

I just went on a binge.

It's...kind of surprising how much you can drink when you put your mind to it.

And that was a stupid, stupid, stupid waste of time that only got me my first ever hangover. Christ, I don't even want to know how much I puked.

So scratch 'drink your brains out' off my list of coping mechanisms.

I'm tucked away in the back corner of another library. After I came to this morning in that same hotel from my last post, face down in my pillow and stinking of cheap beer, I realized I had to get moving. Of course, I had to wait for a bit before my head felt vaguely non-nuclear-explosion-ish. A very long, very cold shower helped a bit. So here I am, with my icky-feeling clothes and faithful laptop. Hopefully, the next place I stay for the night will have a laundry somewhere.

While I was on the bus earlier, I found myself staring out the window, flinching every time I saw a man in a suit or a tall tree. Am I going to spend the rest of my life like this, cringing and hiding and running and never being able to sit down without staring over my shoulder for something trying to kill me?

I don't want this. I don't want to be like this until I slip up and get ripped apart.

I need to find something to work towards. People in the blogs, they generally have more on their list than just 'evade Slender Man.' I've got to find something to put on mine.

heheh oh damn

ladies and gents i have discoveredthejo ys of underage dri nking

not thatdru nk just a c ouplme i thiiiink but manthis is fuuuuuuuun

holaed up in some godfosaken hotel from helll where they donte even card yu at thbe bar

im ond the third flooor so slenderderp cant see me isnt that what m sa id woould work

wheeeeeeeeeee evrythilngs funny when yor buuuuuzed even ne arly dyinnng and stufff

heh im goin g dto bed so niight night all

Lethargic Huddle

Nothing happened today.

I think I spent the entire day buried under these ratty covers.

I don't want to move. I don't want to think. I don't want to eat. I don't want to sleep.

My parents are gone. My home is gone. I'm 18 years old and have nowhere to go, no one to depend on.

I know there are others in worse straits than me. At least a proxy isn't trying to stab my eyes out or something.

But when you come to and it's 10:00 at night and you realize that you haven't left your bed once all day, it's kind of hard to get perspective.

This isn't healthy. It's not going to help me, and if I stay in one place, I'll probably be found.

So I'm going to try again tomorrow. One step at a time, just get out the door and move on.

To anyone who's reading this, I hope your day was more productive and less depressing than mine.

Sleep Preclusion

It's...way too late. I should be trying to sleep.

But I'd really, really prefer not to.

That post story thing I wrote for Frap's plan on the equinox...I don't know how much of it is what really happened and how much is just my messed-up imagination filling in the gaps. But if it is sort of real, if my admittedly-foggy memory of that day is semi-accurate...

Then my dad is dead. My mom is almost surely dead. Christ...

I don't have a home. I don't have a house. I don't have anything in the world but the contents of this ratty backpack and a hotel card key.

Changing the subject before I get bogged down in miserable self-pity, which isn't going to do me any good.

Vivi and Chester of Exilis Veritas no longer remember anything about Slender Man. They can live a normal life. I'm glad for them. Been reading their story for a couple months now, and they deserve whatever break they can get. I don't know how permanent this'll be, but at least they're happy. More people should be happy.

And that sounds like a narm-filled cliche off a Care Bear show.

There's nothing really to say. I'll be moving on again in the morning. Debating getting a cheap car with the money in my account so I don't rely on bus fare, but gas prices are making me question that choice. I just wish I could remember what happened after...after Dad told me to run. I still am not sure how I ended up here.

I guess I'll find out later. Right now, I'm going to try and sleep.

Equinox

He’d always been a logical man.

It started out as something of a coping mechanism. When his mother went off on her schizophrenic rants, he retreated by analyzing just where her arguments failed. When his wife’s bipolar disorder led to increasingly irrational decisions, he handled out by pointing out the flaws and bringing her back to Earth.

It didn’t always work on his teenage daughter, but he could deal with that.

When his wife began to speak of The Tall Man, he discarded her ramblings as just a product of overexposure to Lovecraft and bad horror movies.

When she didn’t stop speaking of it, his logic failed him.

Such a being could not exist. All known laws of reality said it was impossible. This could not be real.

He continued to say that as the abomination plunged its tentacles into his mind.

And he realized he’d been wrong.

Now, there was only one logical course of action. Contain his wife, dispose of his daughter, and be another servant of Him.

When his daughter escaped, taking his wife with her, he felt a little part of him break. He’d failed. Beaten by an 18-year-old girl and her sick mother. This was intolerable.

So he set out to find them.

It wasn’t that hard, when he tried. The network of souls enslaved to Him allowed him to track them down quickly enough. He felt no fear, no doubt, nothing but cold logic and allegiance to Him. What more did he need?

His daughter barely put up a fight.

He returned successful, his wife nearly out of her already-fragile mind with terror, his daughter bloody and unconscious in the back seat of the car. She was locked into her room, while his wife was turned over to Him. Some distant piece in the back of his mind quivered at what He would do to his wife, but that was not for him to know. His wife didn’t even scream as she faced Him, only stood there with face set in stone. He didn’t stay to watch.

The hours passed as he stood watch outside his daughter’s door, waiting for new orders. They came as a whisper in his thoughts. she may have the same. bring her.

He opened his daughter’s door.

And there she was. Staring at him. Brown eyes wide and eerily calm.

“Are you going to kill me, Daddy?”

He paused.

“Dad, I know…I know you’re a proxy, I know you can’t help me, but I still love you anyway. And I know that something in you still loves me.”

It was like coming out of a fog.

“Hurry.” She blinked once, then nodded and grabbed her backpack. He led her down the stairs, each step like leaping across a canyon. Whispers were filling his mind, his breath hurt, anger pulsed around him like the heartbeat of a god. He stumbled as he made his way to his desk, where her wallet and keys were locked in a drawer. Words tumbled out of his mouth, something about transferring money and getting out of town. They made it outside before he shuddered to a stop.

“Dad?”

“Run.”

There was fire.

Burning, death, terror, screaming, his daughter racing back to him, him pushing her away, yelling at her to go, run, don’t look back, don’t look back, you’ll die, it’s too late for me, go. She hesitated, and he shouted it again. She was crying, but she ran.

And He was here.

As His rage slammed into him with the force of a sun and the pain tore his body to pieces, one free thought lingered in his mind.

It was the logical thing to do.

Stormy Harbor

Back with the vaguely poetic titles. Heh. Trying to revive my zombiefied sense of humor.

I'm writing from a McDonald's. Thank God for 24-hour service and free wi-fi. I only have a short time; they don't like loitering.

So I know where I am. I'm still in my state, but I'm several long hours away from my hometown. I'm in a city that my family and I would vacation at all the time during the summer or spring break. Dad always talked about moving up here one day...

I still don't know what happened. I took a nap earlier on a bus I caught, and I saw...things in my dreams. I don't know what, but there was a lot of shouting and me screaming and fire and death and my dad's face...he was crying. I've never seen my dad cry.

Christ...what am I going to dream tonight?

I walked into a bank earlier and checked out the card that was in my wallet. There's about $20,000 in the connected account...which about the same amount as our savings. I'm really freaked out about the implications of this, but at least I'm covered for money. Whoopee.

I don't know where I'll go after I finish this. Probably check into some crappy hotel for the night and keep moving. I want to go back home, but I don't know if I have a home to go back to, and I know...I know it's not safe there. It probably will never be safe there again.

I wonder what's happened to the rest of my family. I could try contacting my brother...

No. He has a family, a wife and kid, and I'm not dragging them into this insanity. I can't go to anyone for help without risking their lives. I don't know who to talk to among the bloggers, as it seems like they have more than their fair share of problems to deal with. No one needs another inexperienced, stupid Runner to worry about.

I haven't noticed anyone following me, for now. Knock on wood.

Bugger, I'm getting dirty looks from the employees. Have to go.

It's...it's Saturday?

God, what...I don't understand.

What happened to me?

I'm...I'm in a library. Don't recognize it. Sitting at a table. Typing from my laptop. I don't know where the power cord is. My backpack's underneath the table. Looking to see what's inside.

There's a notebook. It has Mom's drawings tucked in the front. The pages in the notebook are scrawled with things...looks like my handwriting. Mostly indecipherable, but I can see the operator symbol on some places, and some of these words look like they're saying "I am not yours." Like what Mom said.

My phone isn't here. My iPod isn't here. My wallet is here, has my ID, my university card, some cash in it, about $500 in $20's. There's a check card I don't recognize, but it has my name on it. Small slip of paper with four numbers written on it, not my handwriting. Might be the pin for this card. Nothing else.

There's my power cord for my computer. That's good.

I've got these weird scars on my upper arm. Like thick whip marks. They don't hurt, but I think I can guess where they're from.

I don't know where I am. It's quiet in this library. There's some people milling around, looking at books. No one seems to have noticed me. I'm okay with that.

I can't remember anything that happened since my last post. I remember the door opening, and then everything's...blank. Nothing. I know something happened, I know I got away somehow, but how? Why? What happened to my mom and dad?

I'm...I don't even know, I can't put it into words. I'm going to get moving, figure out where I am. Will try to post more tonight.

God, my head hurts.

Unanswers

It's light out, and my head no longer feels like a grenade went off in my skull.

I can't get out of my room. Door won't open, window's barred, and the wall's too thick to break through. My phone is gone, and so is my laptop. Last night, I crawled around in the dark until I found my iPod. I guess Dad or whoever put me here forgot about that.

I don't know where Mom is...or where anyone is. The house is eerily quiet. I don't even know where my cat is. I hope Mom's alive...

Wait...a white paw just slid under the door. Kitty! Hold on...

Right, just spent a bit touching my cat's paw. I wish I could hold her.

I...I don't think I can even be scared now. I'm just numb. I don't know what's going to happen to me or to Mom or Dad or if I'm going to die or if that bastard's going to turn me into one of his. Scrounging around my room to find something I can use as a weapon. My alarm clock is pretty heavy. I have some old encyclopedias that would produce a nasty thump on the head. There's a scarf in my top drawer.

How long are they going to keep me hesomeonesatthedoor

i'm alive...i think i'm home...i don't...my head is killing me...last thing i remember is looking out my car window...

glass shattering...

i can barely see...can't find my glasses...

room's dark...it's my room...all the lights are gone...door's locked on the outside...window has bars over it...

i don't know what's happening...

daddy?

Exhaustion

It's past 1:00 in the morning.

Had to pull over at and take a break. God, my eyes are aching, but I don't want to sleep. I'm scared of what I'll find in my dreams.

There aren't any trees around here; I made sure of that. It's just an empty rest stop with awful wi-fi, broken vending machines, and a streetlamp that keeps flickering.

Mom's sleeping in the back seat. So tired...

I'm typing just to keep myself awake. Scared to check into hotels, don't want to leave any kind of paper or money trail. Don't remember the last time I actually slept properly.

...I'm going to keep moving, find a place with people. This rest stop is really creepy.

I hope there's a gas station somohgodwhatwasthatsomethingjustmovedoutsi

Problem Catchup

To whoever's still reading this damn thing,

I'm sorry I haven't been very communicative. God, things are bad. Really bad. I mean, not as bad as stuff like Ava getting kidnapped by Redlight(s) and Vivi & Chester having happy fun time with Tenebria and Robert nearly getting lobotomized and all that other insanity, but pretty bad for a girl who, until just a couple months ago, was just a nerdy girl going to college and hoping to be a writer.

I'm on the run. With Mom. This is even harder than it sounds. I managed to salvage her medication, but it's not going to last very long. She's barely coherent as it is.

So...after the events I wrote about in my last entry, I realized that I had to get out of there. My dad was...being controlled. He wasn't himself, and I know that he was...is a Proxy or Hollowed or whatever the hell you call it. My daddy is being mind-controlled by a bloody eldritch abomination, and I can't do anything about it.

Oh God, I have to put this down for a minute.

Okay...I'm sort of calm-ish now. Anyway. So I realized I had to leave. I grabbed my laptop and started making transactions. Point of the matter is, I cleaned out my savings account and transferred it to a separate one, one my dad can't see or touch. It was a pretty substantial amount, so I should be okay for a while on that front. The whole damn time I was in my room, I could hear my dad breathing outside my door. I shouldn't have to be scared of my dad. God damn it, this is insane...

I had to wait a long time before Dad went away. Soon as he did, I grabbed the Louisville slugger in my closet and moved the dresser away from the door. Sure enough, he was right outside.

I...I had to hit him quite a lot before he stopped. God, there was blood all over the place, on my hands, my shirt, the floor...stopthinkingaboutthatitsnothelpingstopitstopitstopit

I got Mom out. Took my laptop with me. Had a feeling I might need it. Grabbed as many clothes as I could stuff into my backpack. Got my wallet and keys, my phone. Set out.

We're pretty far from home now. Been driving almost nonstop. The car's in decent shape, but I just know my dad's reported it stolen, so I freak out every time I see a cop. At least since I'm 18, I can't be reported as a runaway.

While we drive, I try talking to Mom. Ask her questions, figure out more of why Slender Man's been after her, why he killed her brother, why he's stalked her since she was just a kid. Something she said made me think.

"I am not his. I will never be his. Nothing he can do to me will change that."

It was a rare moment of coherence, and then she was back to shivering in the passenger seat and peering out the windows, terrified of every tree and phone pole. God, that sound so...so stupid...being scared of bloody telephone poles.

So right now, we're hunkered down in a gas station with really awful wi-fi. Won't say where, of course. My phone keeps getting calls, mostly from Dad, but I don't dare answer.

I'm scared. I'm so damn scared. Haven't noticed anyone following us, but I kept expecting to see that abomination staring at me.

I want...I want my daddy.

Coherent Thoughts

Well.

Um...

How do I put this? How do I distill the last few days into a vaguely-intelligent post? Have to start somewhere, I guess.

So after I made that freak-out post on the 13th, I went to speak to Mom. I didn't know what would happen, so I recorded the conversation on my phone. It went like this -

Me: Mom, I need to talk to you. I found these. *paper rustling, I showed Mom the pictures*

Mom: *doesn't say anything, but I remember her eyes got HUGE*

Me: I know what they mean. I know that...thing's been watching you. I saw him.

Mom: You...saw him? How?

Me: I saw him outside today. He was looking at your window. I know about him. He's real, and a lot of other people have seen him too. You're not alone in all this, Mom.

Mom: Stop talking about it. I don't want to talk about it, I don't want to hear about it, I thought if I just stopped thinking about it he'd go away but he's been there, he's been there all this time, he won't go away, no one else has ever seen him!

She kept on like this for a while, though I tried to calm her down. After a while, she seemed to be a little more stable, so I tried talking to her again.

Me: Mom, I need to know. What do these mean? Who's that other person in the drawing? The one coming towards Slender Man?

Mom: What did you call him?

Me: Slender Man. That's his name. Well, the name everyone else calls him. What do you call him?

Mom: The Tall Man.

Me: I think you read too much Lovecraft, Mom. *dry laugh* I'm sorry, that...that was rude. I'm just trying to keep my sense of humor. So...so who is this other person?

Mom: *silence for a long time* My...my brother.

Me: Your...brother? The one who died when you were a kid?

Mom: ...Yes. He took him. He took him and I couldn't stop him and it was all my fault. I wouldn't go to him so he took my little brother...oh God, he was only six years old...and it was my fault...

Me: You...wha...

At this point, Dad came in, and I hurriedly turned my phone off. He was...angry. Started yelling at Mom, demanding to know what kind of crazy stuff she was telling me. I told him to calm down, but he wouldn't listen. I yelled at him, and he slapped me.

My dad has never, EVER hit me. NEVER. And he didn't even look at me, just kept staring at Mom and shouting. She just cowered on her bed while he got angrier. I tried to pull him away, and that's when I noticed something.

His eyes...they looked...dead. There was nothing there. It was...Oh God...

I don't remember what happened after that. I woke up to find myself in my room. My door was locked, and my dresser was pulled in front of it. My window was open, so I could see outside.

And he was there.

Slender Man.

And he was staring at me.

I...I can't write more. I'll tell you guys what happened later.

Shauna

Update

Things have been...not so good.

Can't talk right now, but Wind? Thanks. I know there's no way I can leave my mom now.

Not after all the stuff I've learned.

Will write more soon.

Brain Realization

It's finally dawned on me.

Slender Man is real. Which means all these stories I've been following for a couple months...they're real too. Robert, Ava, Frap, Zeke, Matthew, Inky, Reach, Cathy, and many others...they're all real.

I have to talk to Mom.

She needs to know that she's not alone in this.

And maybe I'll get some answers about those drawings.

I'm just so damn scared that I'll look out my window, and he won't be looking at my mother's window anymore.

He'll be looking at mine.

he's here he's standing outside on the sidewalk, he's looking up at hte window oh god he's not looking at my window he's looking at my MOM'S window and I don't dare take my eyes off him and even though his face is blank he seems ANGRY

oh God what do i do what do i do what do i do?!

okay i remember music sometimes does something pulling up music can't look at the screen blasting happy stuff please work please work oh god he's not moving he's still staring at my mom's window he's not going away please go away please go away i don't know how to deal wiht this oh god he's real oh god

he's gone.

I think Mom was watching him. Her blinds were open just a few seconds ago, but they're closed now.

Oh God, what do I do?

Logical Thinking

Okay, I'm sorta kinda calm-ish now.

I thought over those freaky drawings I found and tried to figure out what's the deal with them. The looming Slender-pic isn't hard to decipher, but I don't know about the very first one. With the small figure walking up to those giant tentacles and the other person trying to stop him/her/it. Who are those people in the picture?

The black-haired figure could be my mom; it has her hairstyle (sort of). But who is the small person?

I don't know.

And what's with the "I WILL NOT BE YOURS" AND "YOU CANNOT TAKE ME"? If this means what I think it means, then Mom's being Slenderstalked. But...why? How would she know about him? What the hell is going on?

WHY haven't I seen him? I know about him! I mean, I didn't think he was real, but I'm starting to change my mind, but what if that sends him after me?

Oh God, what've I done?

Will post more later, this is freaking me out again.

I don't believe it.

I can't...I don't...

WHAT THE HELL?!

Okay, breathe, calm down, try to focus, freaking out isn't going to do you any good.

Been telling myself that for hours now.

Oh God...

I found something and I don't want to admit it's true but oh God it's real.

Just...hold on, need to go compose myself.

Okay, took a 20-minute break to get myself under control.

Where to start?

This afternoon, I came home from college and was just chilling out in my room. I was looking for a book, but I couldn't find it, so I went into Mom's room to see if she had it. Mom was downstairs at the time eating a snack or something, I don't know. So I'm looking around and I see this white thing underneath the bed.

And I got curious.

So I reached under the bed and...and I found these.

I just...I...

How can this be real? How can this be happening? HOW CAN THIS BE REAL?!

I never told Mom about Slender Man. She doesn't even know how to use the Internet. She doesn't read any blogs, she doesn't look at anything, HOW CAN SHE KNOW ABOUT THIS?! What the hell does this mean?!

What am I going to do?

Quiet Thoughts

Hello all,

Today's been fairly calm so far. By calm, I mean that Mom's been in her room the whole time with the blinds closed. At least she's not have a freak-out over something.

I still don't know what exactly is going on. I've talked to Dad about it, but he thinks she just needs a med adjustment.

I don't think it's that simple. Mom's been off-and-on erratic for most of my life, even with all the medication tinkering. I'm going to do some research and see if there's a medical explanation I've overlooked. There's a family history of crazy-time, so maybe she has something undiagnosed.

Right. And my cat is Sasquatch.

Cheers,

Shauna

Hello all,

Quick post because I'm in class right now.

I checked Mom's medication out of a combination of curiosity and worry.

She's been taking her meds.

I watched her take them this morning.

Whatever's wrong with her...it's not her meds.

This is...not good.

ARGH!

Hello all,

Sorry, no semi-clever title tonight. Buckle in, this is going to be a rant-fest.

My mother drives me mad.

As I mentioned in my previous post, my mom has severe bipolar disorder. She's on medication that should be helping her stay in control, but I think she's stopped taking it lately or something because she's acting bonkers. One minute, she's running around downstairs peering out windows and messing with the blinds, the next she's locked herself in her room with the lights out.

Mom, you're not a five-year-old.

I went in her room earlier today to check on her, and she had buried herself under the covers. It was 3:00 in the afternoon, for God's sake. The blinds were shut and the curtain was drawn, so her room looked like a bloody cave. I reached over to open the blinds a bit, and she completely flipped out. Yelled at me to stop touching things and leave her in peace.

That...didn't make me feel very good.

So I'm just avoiding her now. Hopefully she'll start taking her meds again soon, but if she keeps freaking out, I think Dad'll have to take her to the doctor.

God, I'd love to have a normal mom sometimes.

Anyway, sorry for all the ranting, people.

Cheers,

Shauna

Timey-Wimey Wasting

Hello, all,

Quick post before I head off to lunch.

I'm perched up on this little balcony on the second floor of one of the college buildings, from which I have a clear view of the street. It's going to storm soon, I think. My state isn't quite caught in the middle of the MEGA ULTRA GIANT SNOWSTORM OF DEATH AND DESPAIR, so it's freakishly warm for the second day of February.

So I'm wasting time listening to Daft Punk and feeling happy because I got a 98 on my Criminal Justice test. Admittedly, it was very easy because it drew from material I learned back in 10th grade and had beaten into my head through the rest of high school (law academy FTW).

Things have been a bit stressful at home. Mom's not all right in the head thanks to a combination of bipolar disorder and a severe head injury when I was three, but I don't think her meds are working up to their full capacity. She's been a bit...erratic. So it's just me and Dad taking care of everything around the house (cooking, cleaning, gassing up the car, looking after the cat...). Honestly, it gets a little depressing sometimes.

Whoops, didn't mean to go off on a wangst session. Sorry about that.

Cheers,

Shauna

Transfer Time

Hello, all,

I switched over to a new account so I won't be using my college e-mail (you never know when that thing's going to pitch a fit). Of course, this meant I had to re-follow all those Slender blogs, but that's okay. I added a few more to my list.

Crazy stuff's going on in the ARG that is Slender Man. I don't really know what to think of it all. He's not real, of course. But it is amazing to see how much effort people are putting into this story, the level of collaboration and detailed storytelling that makes up this mythos. I'm very impressed.

And no, I'm still not going to make this into a Slender-blog. Like I said, I'm terrible at writing horror stories.

Cheers,

Shauna

Things That Grow Tentacles

Hello all,
Once again, I am stricken with the curse of update failure (and a general inability to type normally, keep having to go back to fix typos).
Nothing's been happening.  I should be working right now on a Criminal Justice paper, but instead I'm going to babble on about something entirely different.
Ready?
Slender Man.
Ever heard of him?
He's a humanoid-eldritch abomination thingy that was born on the Internet and has become something of an urban legend on the Tubes.  Started in the Something Awful forums, and now there are blogs and vlogs and all kinds of crazy stuff written by people who are being "stalked by him."  Most of the time, it ends horribly.
So.  It's pretty cool, if terrifying stuff (and very well put together, most of it).  I'm following a couple of the Slender blogs right now and waiting for Marble Hornets to release its next installment (the original Slender vlog, scary stuff in there).  If you want to know more, there's a big article on TV Tropes that's all about him and the stories associated with him.
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/TheSlenderManMythos
And before anyone gets the idea, no, this is not going to turn in a Slender Man blog.  I'm not cut out for writing horror.  Happy swords-and-sorcery is more up my alley.
Cheers,
Shauna

Absurdist Ramblings

Hello all,
I'm going to bed soon (hah, what a joke, I'll probably be up for a while longer wasting time), but before I attempt to hang out with Morpheus, I thought I'd share a Creative Writing assignment with you.
The homework was to read a chapter on voice in writing and then pick one of the challenges in the chapter.  I selected "an ode to something trivial or silly."  And so...
Ode to Macbook 
Oh, beautiful Macbook 
How do I love thee? 
Let me count the ways

Thy pearly white exterior 
Of purity and perfect form

Thy wondrous magnetized power cable 
That will protect thee from falling 
When some foolish Microsoft devotee 
Deliberately trips over the dangling cord

Thy 13-inch screen, untouched by time 
The dust would dare not settle on it

Thy keyboard is elegant in shape 
Functional in every way

How could I live if not for the blessed touchpad 
That serves to enlighten me 
As I scroll through the latest soul-searching 
YouTube video of frolicking kittens?

Thy shield against computer plague 
For who would dare stand 
Against the firewall of a mighty Mac?

Dear Macbook, thou art the ideal 
Amongst all the other laptops 
But I do have one small request 
Couldst thou learn the ways 
Of the gaming computer?
...
Yeah.  I had way too much fun with that.
Cheers,
Shauna

Update Failure

Hey all,
WOW.  I fail at staying regular with this thing, don't I?  Let me see, nothing posted since December 30, which means I have gone roughly two weeks without writing anything.  Apologies to anyone still reading. I shall try my best to be a little more consistent from now, although I can't make any promises given my slightly ADD-nature.
So.  I've started my second semester of college.  I'm taking Honors World Religions, Honors English, Intro to Creative Writing, Intro to Sociology, and Intro to Criminal Justice.  That's a lot of Honors and Intros.  Creative Writing is by far the most enjoyable class I've had in a long time; I get to write angsty poetry and rambling stories and get points for it!  Woo!  For instance, our homework for last class was to listen to a piece of music we enjoy and then write whatever comes to mind.  That's it.  I picked "Lux Aeterna" from the movie Requiem for a Dream.  It's a beautiful piece of music, so I'll stick it right here if anyone wants to listen to it.  It actually managed to inspire me to write a scene that will be part of the climax of Dawn of Night, so that's awesome.

World Religions is unfortunately a little dull because the professor is very old and very drone-y.  Anyone who's had a droner knows what I'm talking about.  Our first topic is Hinduism, which is very different from anything I've studied before.  After that, I believe we'll go into Buddhism, and then Islam, Judaism, and Christianity (not necessarily in that order; I can't remember exactly what it said on the syllabus).
So that's been my two weeks.  I've been poking Dawn of Night, and it's sorta-kinda talking to me, more like a laryngitis-stricken whisper than a conversation, but I'll take what I can get.  Maybe by next week I'll finish up chapter 5, but I can't say for certain.
Cheers,
Shauna