. 28.11.12 Nobody .

  Her eyes are a dark, dull silver pair, and they stare at you lifeless, like the eyes of a dead fish. Her hair is raven and forever trailing in the wind, and her ends disappear with every gust that stirs. Her dress reminds you of the mist, and sometimes you wonder if that was all she was, and if she was ever there.

  She likes to walk around at night, barefoot across roads and roads of cobblestoned streets. And sometimes, if you listen real hard, you can almost hear the pitter-patter of ghostly feet. Like a child, she is forever curious of the world around her; the sensations about her that she can no longer feel or taste or touch. She likes to follow you around, even if you never notice her; even if your eyes will never meet hers. It hasn’t stopped her before.

  Animals take notice of her. Some are frightened, while others grow familiar with her kind presence. She becomes nothing more than a shadow that accompanies them on their rounds. If she had a companion, it would seem to be a particular, black cat, plump in figure with emerald eyes bejewelling its round face. They walk side-by-side down the cobblestone path in the early mornings, before the milkman arrives with its breakfast.

  Most people never see her, and she doesn’t mind. She doesn’t mind anything anymore. She just is. And that is all she will be. Though sometimes she takes pleasure in being noticed once in a while. More than once, her misty frame has caught the glance of a child or two and they always stare at her in awe. Their eyes tell her they’re frightened of her dead-fish pair and her ghostly figure, and all she does in return is smile, with a single finger to her pale lips. Her raven hair twists and turns in the wind and across her face.

This Dream was neither sad nor scary. Just a short narrative of a girl ghost who walked through the streets, still observing the lives of the living and existing with the simple pleasures she has left. Like making friends with a single black cat (which was awfully cute by the way). I called this Dream ‘Nobody’ because it reminded me a lot of Nobody Owens, the ghostly boy from the Graveyard Book; one of my faves by Neil Gaiman.

. 08.08.12 Slender child .

  I was a young girl with long black hair and a petite red dress, and a cute red hair-band. I lived in a great, big, wooden cottage in the middle of a grey forest. Very rarely did I see people in the forest, let alone children. But when I did see children, I was very happy. I’d go out and play with them. The children never stayed for long though. They were either frightened of me or stayed away, or they just disappeared eventually. But there were two boys that did not mind the fact I lived in a forbidden forest and that I had slightly morbid tendencies. I liked them a lot. They were my first friends.

  The older boy had chestnut hair and eyes, and wore a plain white shirt with denim overalls, with one strap hanging loose from his shoulder. His younger brother had darker hair, almost black like mine, and wore a red shirt and knee-length, brown pants. They lived in a village near to my forest and stumbled upon me by chance one day. Though they were told time and time again not to go near the forest by their parents, they would visit me every day just to play with me. I was their little secret as they were mine.

  But one day they visited me while I was still inside my home. I was in my bedroom upstairs and they saw me through the window. Though I was afraid we would get caught, I opened my window and hurried them to come inside before ‘daddy’ would see. So they were let into my home and we played for a while. But once I heard ‘daddy’ come back home, I had to rush them out the window and had them carefully climb down. ‘Daddy’ doesn’t like it when strangers are in the house. He doesn’t like strangers at all.

  The moment the boys disappeared from plain sight, running back to their village, there was a knock on my door. ‘Daddy’ entered, looming and tall, so much so he reached the ceiling and he had to hunch. His tentacles were twisting and twirling behind him, restless, as if he was disturbed. He took a look outside my window then turned to me and I smiled as innocently as I could. Once his tendrils calmed down, his faceless mask softened as well and a large tentacle patted me on the head. I loved ‘daddy’ but it can get rather lonely sometimes when everyone’s afraid of Slenderman.

Yes I was Slenderman’s child and I really enjoyed the Dream. The way Slendy was so affectionate with me, and protective of me. It made me wonder if I was really his biological, monstrous child or just some child he kidnapped and liked having around. Or perhaps I was demonically possessed and he adopted me for that interest in me. Or perhaps I was a normal child who was already dead, but resurrected due to Slendy’s supernatural powers; cus he was awfully lonely himself and needed someone to play with. Asides from all this, what is up with the iconic girl with black hair and red dress? Is it really symbolism for something pure evil?