Dammit!
Throughout this whole damn thing, I have said nothing about it to my family. I've let them whisper about drug tests, pregnancy, psychiatrists. All to fucking protect them!
I was having a normal day for god's sake!
I just.... Dammit.
He's coming for my sisters.
Yep. Me again. Sorry about Spyre and the whole weird personality swap-out thing. I usually don't do that. I was just flustered by what happened.
Idk if you'll ever get to speak to/hear from Spyre again. I'll try to keep a tighter lid on these guys and not have mental breaks in the future.
I... Well, this is hard to explain. Blogging is Ash's thing, not mine. I really don't know how in detail she's gone over the multiple personalities thing here. But... I'm really terrible at this, aren't I? I may be the source of creativity and one of the more social of the personalities, but I don't like breaking bad news.
So, I'll begin by introducing myself. I'm Spire ^^
Ash refers to me as 'the one who is all sunshine and roses'.
Nevertheless, I had something to say. Something's wrong with Ashley. Last night, she blocked us all out from what was going on in the world around us and when she let us be aware again, she was... Different. She's scared out of her mind. She won't talk to anyone. She won't tell anyone what happened.
She's put me in charge for a little while, but I'm no leader. The others'll listen to me for a little while, but if Ash doesn't start acting more normally, there'll be another war- oh. Um... I'm not allowed to talk about that.
If I can get her out, then I'll have her post. If not.... I'll try to keep this updated myself.
Wish me luck ^^
Not much to say. First off, I really fucking hate these migraines. And I'm out of the damn excedrin. I'll be damned if I try to sleep this one off.
So here's to a pounding head and crappy memory.
On a side note: I do remember that I was talking to people and that my dad turned off the fucking wifi before I could say goodbye despite the fact that he had promised me Friday nights for my Werewolf: The Apocalypse rp group. Asshole.
Know what sucks?
Life does.
It really, really does.
Sadly, though, ending it is not and shall not be in my list of options for quite some time. For a multitude of reasons.
Thing is, I've not been doing my job with this whole blog thing. I'm supposed to share exactly what happens to me, and make notes on it. This way, all of us have a chance to learn more about him. Maybe his weaknesses, maybe new things to avoid doing.
Personally, I don't see it. Read the blogs. They're all different. Slenderman is different for each and every one of us. It doesn't matter where the hell he came from. It doesn't matter what his goal is. He kills. And he enjoys killing. It's a game to the bastard.
So, here's me, doing my job. Where the hell do I start?
How 'bout the beginning.
I was born in El Paso, Texas. I lived there for the first seven years of my life. I really don't remember any of it, save a few things. Violent fits I had, usually involving someone being bitten, my pet ducks mysteriously disappearing from their cage, the calm of the wide, hot (or freezing, at night) desert.
Then, the summer before my eighth birthday, my family moved. We came to where I live now, a city in East Texas (which I shall not name because I'd rather not have to deal with people following me around. I'm not exactly hard to find if you know my city.) I remember the car ride. Hell, I remember the whole thing. It was a twenty-one hour drive. It shouldn't have taken that long, but it did. We got here at night. It was loud, deafening even. I'm used to cicadas now, but to a child accustomed to nighttime in the desert, it was the loudest the world could be. And the trees. I had, of course, seen trees before, but not in such large groups, so close together. It was terrifying. I stood out there for what seemed an eternity, and my mom eventually dragged me inside.
It took me a while to get used to this place, and I was always so curious. I could never resist the urge to go running into the woods, to imagine making my home there. We've moved several times in the eight years I've been here. But only houses. We've stayed in this city a while, and while I was here, I stopped being so angry and violent all the time.
It took me a long, long while to figure out that I was different from the other children. It was hard to understand that they all only had one person in their heads instead of.... Honestly, I haven't counted in a very long while. At that age, there couldn't have been more than a few. I have more now. And thus, I fell into the 'weird' crowd. They were the only ones who didn't judge me for being more than one person. Not that I exactly went to them. Social anxiety is a bitch like that.
I didn't even hear about Slenderman until this past summer. I have to admit, it intrigued me from the beginning, but not enough that I'd play Slender, or spend countless hours of my time researching him and reading slenderblogs. I just wasn't that interested. I was really paranoid for a few months. I serious thought he was going to show up and that I was going to die. He didn't, and I lived. Eventually, I put it behind me. I left it alone and moved on. Save a few paranoid glances over my shoulder every now and then, I was fine.
It wasn't until just a few months ago that I just randomly decided to look it up again. The paranoia actually wasn't as bad. I managed to convince myself that he wasn't real. Not that it helped.
Not sure how long ago it was. I could find out pretty easily, but I'm not in the mood right now. But he showed up recently. And my life has been hell since then.
He seems to run on a schedule with me. I see him at 6:05 and 22:16 every day, on the dot. Every once in a while, he'll do something big. A while ago, I got really depressed. I couldn't see an end to the torture, to him. So I found the key to my parents' gun safe. I put it to my head, and...
Obviously I didn't pull the trigger.
He walked in. He had to stoop to get through the door, but that made it even more terrifying. It could have been funny, I guess, but... It wasn't even close to funny. His tentacle things were out, and one of them lashed out and wrapped around my wrist, the one holding the gun. I don't know how to even begin to explain what it felt like. It burned, and was absolutely freezing, yet it had an electric touch to it. I guess... It was so contradictory. It felt silky, smooth, yet it bit into me as if it had a thousand tiny barbs all over it. I dropped the gun and he picked it up with another tentacle. More of them wrapped around me, around my waist, my arms, legs, neck. Anywhere. He picked me up off of the ground and pulled me up face-to-whatever you call the thing he has that is not a face. An electric surge went through my body, a warning, if anything. And he dropped me. The last thing I remember before my vision went black was him turning away from me.
I woke up later, as though nothing had happened. It could have been a dream if it weren't for the black operator symbol drawn on my wrist.
He left me alone for a bit after that. More scars, as usual, and memory loss, but I'm getting used to it.
Then, last Thursday, he attacked me again. Unprovoked, this time. I woke up with another migraine. More memory loss. Ended up staying home for it, which was pretty awesome. Despite the fact that the last time I stayed home, I nearly killed myself and ended up having a lovely date with Slendy.
I stayed up longer than I normally would have, seeing as sleep is what fixes my migraines.
When I eventually did sleep, I felt somewhat safe. Had a weird dream, though. Can't remember it too well. Just trees. Lots and lots of trees.
However, I woke up with an operator symbol carved into my shoulder. Hurt like hell, too. I have no idea how I managed to sleep through that. There was a bloody razor on the floor.
Since then.... Well, not much has happened. Been playing a lot of pokémon. I've actually found that it's a good warning device. The ds'll start to freak out if you get too close to him.
I was reading once, while I walked. Through the woods. Because I'm just so smart. I looked up at one point and he was standing right in front of me. So close that had I moved my book forward a few more inches, or even taken a small step, I'd be touching him. I turned and ran. He let me.
And, that's about it. I'll do my job better in the future. Go ahead and ask questions if you want.
