Got shipped out days ago. Clothes on my back, and not much else. So I caved in, and asked for a ride back to 'my' apartment. Took some doing, but she acquiesced, and reluctantly picked me up.
I was strangely relieved to see her again. Despite my nagging concern that she's not part of my life, my real life, it's still a comfort to at least have someone feign sympathy, if disgruntled. The ride itself was quiet for the most part. She upset and frustrated with my 'paranoid delusions', me not wanting to piss her off, and on the look out for the Faceless thing, even as I doubled up on whatever anti-freakout medicine I was given from the pharmacy.
Finally, I decided I had to ask her again. In a tired, plaintive tone I asked her why I was in the hospital in the first place. I told her I deserved to know what happened to me, and that it might help explain why I have these weird thoughts and feelings.
Surprisingly as we got to my place, she resigned herself. Told me I was acting strange, that it was some sort of disassociative disorder, I guess layman's term would be another personality? Then something happened to me, I just keeled over, and that's all she wrote. Said something about not wanting to bring it up again, in hopes whatever trauma caused this attitude might submerge itself.
I thanked her, and murmured an apology to her for how I've been. She nodded grimly, leaving me to my home. I had a lot to think about the next few days.
So I decided to document this revelation, as before in this journal, in case some other shit happens to me, and what the fuck do I see?
People are watching my account! I see followers, this Chase person in particular. Snooping around, i see this person has like hundreds of blogs followed. That's when I started reading, and I found out, that in one manner, I. am. not. alone.
This...this Slender Man as they call him...what is it? and just as important, what does it want with me?