The titles lies. There hasn’t been any.
Jason is, to put it simply, falling to pieces at a much faster rate than I had anticipated. He rarely comes out of his room now, and has completely covered his window with whatever furniture, papers, lamps, etc. he could find. In the past, he often had friends over; now he has told me to inform anyone seeking him at the door that he’s out. That he’s now always closed away means that I no longer get my 24/7 personal Marble Hornets, which is a disappointment.
The sleep medicine has worked in keeping me asleep, which has the wonderful benefit of helping me not collapse during finals. However, in the past few mornings, I have found objects in my room had been moved during the night. My chair, some books…. Usually it wasn’t much, but waking up to find the contents of my bookshelf scattered across the floor has a way of weighing on the mind. The worst was when I woke up and realized that I was lying on the floor, two feet away from my bed. The sheets were undisturbed, so I could not have fallen out. The rest of that day was spent imagining tendrils wrapping around me as I slept, and lifting me from my place of rest….
It wasn’t a good day.
There haven’t been any close encounters of the Slender Kind for some time which I have been awake enough to be aware of. His absence is almost as unnerving as his presence; at least when I can see him, I know what he’s doing. I would have a few seconds warning before I died. Now I am always looking into shadows, expecting him to leap out and feast on my brains.
In a few days, this semester will have ended, and I’ll be out of this city for the holidays. I’m not sure if I should see that as a blessing. Changing locales supposedly can throw Slendy off your trail for a short while, and I’ll be free of Jason’s constant whining, but there is one thing about home which makes me wary.
Trees. Trees everywhere.
The image of Texas which most outsiders seem to hold in their mind is off a desert, marked only by a skull, cactus, tumbleweed, and the occasional cowboy silhouetted by the sunset. The reality is far different; there are deserts in Texas, but none where I live, or where my parents live. We’re inhabitants of Central Texas and the hill country, which is short on deserts, but has a remarkable supply of hills and forests. Living in an apartment close to a city has kept me from needing to deal with Slender Man and his forests, but my parents live in a suburb infested with trees. You need walk only a short distance from their house, and you are surrounded by foliage so thick, that all signs of human habitation have vanished. Given Slendy’s love of woodland hiking, spending too much time in such an environment seems counter to my goal of keeping my soul from being consumed for as long a period as possible.
Now I appear to be rambling. This entire post could have been shortened to bullet points, really. I think that’s what I’ll do.
-Jason’s even worse than before.
-Slender Man’s screwing with me while I sleep.
-Soon I’ll be traveling to the land o’ the trees. At least the tree inside the house should be fake.
And one last thing. As noted in my previous comments, Zero had given me the wonderful idea to politely ask Slender Man to leave me alone. So I tried shouting at him if he could just go and stalk someone else the next time I saw him chillin’ by a playground. I don’t think it worked; the next night he was back, tapping on Jason’s windows, while Jason screamed in terror for help.
Godawful racket almost kept me up all night.