It's really starting to get to me.

So, last few nights I haven't really slept at all.
I've started having nightmares, like vivid as shit 'not sure if they're real or not' kind of freaking nightmares.

They're always the same. Accept for the ending... that's always been slightly different.

It starts off with me sat on my bed, in my room. Looking at this stupid computer screen.
Suddenly the screen goes all fucked up, and the computer just crashes, blue screens, whatever...

I know what could be the cause.
I fear what could be the cause.
And then what COULD be, becomes what IS as I slowly raise my head to look at the door.

It slowly opens.

I feel so calm. Like my body is unable to feel the fear that my mind is screaming about.
Like the survival instinct of my body is no longer functioning.
It doesn't realize, it can't realize. Doesn't know what to do with what my mind is trying to tell it.

All I do is watch, as His face (or lack there of) slowly lowers so He can see me through the top corner of the now partially opened door. He just stands there in all of his tall and fucked up glory. As if He was waiting for me to make my move.

To see if I would try to fight.
Or try to run.
But we both know that I would fail with either one.

And then, just as my mind realizes this, and is about to accept fate...

The worst thing happens.

My sister, from the other room down the hall, coughs and lets out a slight whine before (presumably) returning to sleep.
The energy of the situation changes then. Instantly.

He is no longer in 'intrigued tall guy' mode.

He's switched to 'scary as fucking shit I'm going to kill you're fucking sister in fucking front of you and fucking enjoy it' mode.

He stands up strait. I can no longer see His face, now hidden by the door frame and the wall above it. All I can see is his fucking suit, as it glides out of sight and down the hall.

He doesn't care about me any more.
He knows she's there.
He wants her.

And He knows I can't do a single fucking thing about it.

My body is still numb with calm though. I don't know whether it was Him, or if it's just one of the horrific things you're body does sometimes in terrible dreams, but I couldn't move at more than a slow walking pace.

And I did move.

I followed Him through my door. He paid no attention to me. He just continued, slightly bent over in order to fit in the hall, towards my sisters room...

I try to cry out.

...Nothing.

I try to run at Him, refocus His attention.

...Just another painfully slow step.

I see Him turn to look in her room. He realizes He's found her.
And (most recently), He looks back at me briefly, conveying a message of fucked up victory through that expressionless face.

The black tendrils then slide out of His body as He takes a single step into my sisters room.

That's when I woke up last.
Before then, the dream had ended when He heard her cough, at least that's when I woke up the first time. But since then He's been getting further down the hall every time I sleep.

I throw up more or less every time I wake.
I feel like death, and I've not even seen Him in the real world since the first sighting.
Or have I?

I don't even know.

So now I won't sleep. I can't sleep. I have to keep her safe. Just in case it's not a dream.

I have to leave.
I have to fucking leave.
...Almost ready.
I just need a few more things...

So I just got back...

From Adam's (a friend of mine). I felt bad for staying at his last night, but I'm no good to anyone if I'm completely exhausted. The result of staying there was that I had an hour or two more sleep than normal, so I guess it worked (though I'm not really sure why). But I left early this morning, (it's about 10:30am here at the time of writing) as much for his safety as my sanity.

First thing I did when I got back was make sure my sister was okay.

She was. Thank God.

The second thing I did was get on this laptop and make sure people were still alive.

Anyway, while I was at Adam's I told him that I'd be leaving soon. I didn't tell him why, I just said some shit about wanting to make something of myself and this was the only way to do it...
He laughed at first, and just turned on the t.v. It was only after about a two minutes or so that he saw I wasn't kidding and decided to clarify that with a "You're not kidding are you?"

I shook my head and he sat up, serious now.
He didn't understand, I could see it in his eyes.

But he knows me well enough to know that once I've decided to do something, It's pretty difficult to stop me from doing it. I can be a stubborn bastard at the best of times.

He asked me what I would do, where I would I go. I just shrugged, and walked over to the window in his living room, to check that Mr. Slim wasn't outside watching...

I sighed, He wasn't out there. But the fact that I looked to 'make sure' was just another fucking reminder that I had to leave soon.

Adam does know about The Slender Man. (There, I said it).
He's watched a lot of the Youtube videos, and I even showed him Zeke's blog (Seeking Truth) a while back...
From what I remember he enjoyed the videos, but didn't really read the blog. He's never been much of a reader to be fair.

For the rest of the afternoon, before I went to try and catch some sleep, he was more or less trying to talk me out of it while at the same time trying to understand why I thought I had to go. He just wouldn't shut up.
Which is actually a reason I retired early... I don't like lying to the guy. But I really don't want him to get him involved with this.

...I'm not ready to leave yet.
But when I do I'm going to miss Adam. He's one of the very few friends that I have.

And I suppose that just makes it more important that get I out of here soon.

The Night...

It's about 6:00pm here in England, at the time of me writing this sentence...
It's dark, and it's snowing like there's no tomorrow.

I hate the night. And He hasn't even been in my house (that I know of) yet.

In fact I haven't seen Him since the first time... well that's another story. Not a great one I'll be honest, but a future post that I'm doing my best on avoiding.

Not only does the dark make it near impossible to see anything at all. But It's always so quite.
I jump at every freaking noise I hear.

And then there's my family.
Both parents, a younger brother, and a much younger sister.
I know I have to leave soon. Or else...
I can't let that happen. Won't let that happen.
I HAVE to leave, and follow M's rules before it's too late.

My sister, she's young enough to be one of His... I don't even want to fucking type it.
I've lost count of how many times I've had to go into her room to check she's still there...
The lack of sleep is discomforting to say the least.

I don't know why I've not seen Him recently. It's maddening, to think He's watching me or my sister or any of my family, and I just can't spot Him.

Maybe I saw Him just by chance? No. That can't be it, maybe this is what He wants, to drive me insane by NOT showing up. To be honest, that would bloody get to me. Is getting to me.

Supposedly He forms a kind of mental link with his victims right? And that He seems to be different to everyone. So maybe He uses what will get in your head the most, to get you on the crazy train for easy pickings.

...Or He's just a sick fuck.
Probably both.

Whatever His reasons, I hope to be far away from my family before He shows up again.
But needless to say, I don't get much sleep any more.

Which bloody sucks considering I disliked the hours of night before I even knew anything about Him.

Whoop-de-freakin'-doo!

That's nice to wake up to I guess.
A few people actually read this thing. So that's something.

It amazes me how quick to judge people can be, but then again I guess I forget sometimes that some of these blogs are just meant to be stories.

Well the news flash is that I don't give a crap what people I don't know think of me.
I'm so incredibly sorry that my life is too 'generic' for you mate. Really I am!
...Sorry I can't shit rainbows out of my backside into The Faceless Face's Face...

The fact is, non of this could ever be 'realistic' because it's just not. I remember a post that Shaun (from Risk Death) did in which he found it strange that as soon as people actually see the Bastard they have been reading about for so long, they revet back to calling it "that thing" and such.

I like to think I'm not doing that, as much as I avoid using His common name. (But that's my attempt on not infecting anyone who might accidentally come across this blog).

The reason I'm even writing a blog is so that I can comment and make contact with people who I don't want to see dead.
That's all...
And the reason I'm doing it now, is because I think I saw Him.
Which kind of puts a spin on your pastime of reading blogs that are more of less ABOUT Him.

I'll likely never get a chance to talk to Zeke.
And Zero's long gone.
And...Robert, well who really knows what the fuck happened to him.

Not to mention everyone else who's had to deal with this shit.

Speaking of Robert, there's a guy calling himself 'Bluelight' posting about rebooting core theory and tones of other cryptic stuff.
He's commented on here, says he'll "guide me through this".
I don't know what to make of him... I don't trust him, I'm not THAT stupid. He has to earn that trust.
There was some binary on one of his comments on his blog that translated to "help me" so... yeah.
But I'm not going to write him off just like that. He's not Robert, I'm pretty sure of that.
But It doesn't mean he's not important.

He says he knows things, "the patterns" or whatever. That apparently we don't.
I don't know about you, but I'm not about to ignore that. The worst that can come of me believing he exists is that I look a bit stupid.

And I can deal with that.

So, I guess I should write a little more about myself.

Just in case anyone does happen across this thing.

To be honest there really isn't much to tell.
My name's Jake, and I live in the UK. In the middle of nowhere. Surrounded by little patches of fucking woods. Which is just wonderful...

I'm unemployed. I dropped out of collage because I couldn't focus on any of the lessons I tried to take. And I've never really planed a future for myself.

And now... well now I suppose none of it matters.
I still live in my family household. (Regrettably, I know It's pathetic).

But that will likely have to change soon.

...

Okay. This is where I just stop for a moment to get it out there. Mainly for your protection, potentially unwary traveller of the internet, who has happened across this shitty blog of mine.

The blogs I've read... were about Him.
The people I hope to contact are stalked by Him.
And... I have seen Him too. And He saw me...

At this point if you don't know what I'm talking about then I beg you, LEAVE.
Right now.
I don't care how fucking curious it might be.
Just fucking click the 'close window' button on whatever screen you're reading this on.

Please...for your own sake, don't read any more.

On the other hand, if you DO know of what I speak. Then feel free to stick around. I can't promise a cheery conversation, but I'll welcome anyone who knows what I'm talking about and doesn't think I'm completely crazy.

I'm not going to go and explain how I found out about Him. Because we all more or less found out the same way...
What I will say is that I never in my mind confirmed nor denied His existence. Same as I never confirmed nor denied the existence of the runners who blog the horrors of their lives.

Of course, now that I've actually seen Him I'm more inclined to believe He really is out there. But even so I have to hold on to the possibility it was just... in my head.
But even if He, It... was. Does that really make it any less real?
If some of the runners I've grown fond of die, and yet they were just made up characters... does that make it any easier to accept that they're gone?

I don't think so.

The way I see it (and always have seen it) is that if you treat something that has the possibility to be real, as real. Then you can't lose out. For example, if I was to read about someone who asked me for help, and I said "It's just story, so it doesn't matter." and that person died... then they would still be dead.
Real or not.
And if they WERE in fact real then... what would that make me, or any of us?

So the bottom line is, at least for me, I treat all things related to this crap with at least the possibility that it's real.
And that is all I really ask of you.
That is if there is someone reading this, and you already knew what I was talking about...

Because if you didn't you need to get the fuck out while you can.

Starting Out...

Okay so, I'm going to jump right in here and say that I've read a few blogs, but I've never even thought about making one for myself until now. I mean, who the hell would want to read about my shitty life?

The answer is no one.

But yeah, anyway. I've read a few blogs here and there. Followed them closely... but never really said anything.

And I want to.

So that's what this is all about. As I say I don't think of myself as a master blogger, I'm just going to try and use this to hopefully interact with people. Give them my support.

But, I thought it would be a bit pointless for me to just comment on others blogs, while I had one that was just stupid to look at. So I am going to to try and write a post every now and again. Likely rants on random crap...

Seeing as I doubt anyone will read, or even see this blog.

So I guess I should end this post by just saying...

My name's Jake, and this is my attempt at a blog.