You were sitting boredly at your desk like any other late Friday evening, alone in the house as usual. The only sound was the music that hummed against your ears drums, from your headphones. You nodded your head along to the beat, as you scratched a pen swiftly against a scrap of paper as the answers to the math questions were being filled out on the page before you.
It wasn't a very cold day for winter, and instead of being bundled up in a thick hoodie, you simply hung around your room with a bra on and a black lace poncho draping over your stomach and shoulders. Black jean shorts hugged your thighs while your lower legs bathed in red and black striped stockings, which you were swaying back and forth slightly with the motion of your legs that dangled off your chair. Scribbling down the last of the dumb math equations you'd been assigned you let out a gruff sigh and leaned back in your spinny chair. It was the big leather type that you could spin around in, pretending to be an evil mastermind. Which, when no one was around, you sometimes did.
Finally when your work was done, you shoved it against your desk and rose from your seat, chains and suspenders rattling at your side as you kicked open your door and stormed down stairs, mind fixed on getting a juice box. Like any normal teenager would do, you jumped up onto the railing and sat against it's slanted surface. Letting go of the banister, you slid down the railing, riding it all the way down to the hallway below. Jumping back onto the floor you strolled into the kitchen, located the fridge and began your raid. The artificial glow of the fridge's light guided your gaze to a brand new box of fruit punch juice boxes.
You pluck two of them from the case and lean them in the crook of your arm, while retrieving a bottle of Smuckers squeezable strawberry jam too. Why? Because you're a freak like many of the other kids who chill on the internet, where you spend most of your time, and you like drinking jam. This was probably because of a character named Beyond Birthday, who you'd gone through a large fan phase with.
Humming to yourself, you nudge the door closed with your knee, than turn to the granite counter. A few moments later, you had a straw in your mouth, sipping crimson liquid out of a small box. The other juice box you left on the counter for later, while you grabbed the jam and headed for your room with a small sigh.
Back to your computer.
Back to Tumblr.
Tumblr was one of the few places you could find solace. Either that or Deviant art. You were always wishing there was something more out there. Something that could separate you from those mainstream hipsters with their 'Yolo' And their 'swag'. Your parents called you rebellious. You were a few classes behind and you hung out with the wrong crowd because they understood you. Or at least maybe a little. You just wanted some adventure, was that really so wrong?
As these thoughts drifted through your head, you floated up the stairs on silent feet, when suddenly a scratching sound crawled across the glass sliding doors in the living room, just a little ways away from the hall. You leaned over the stairs case and gazed down into the room puzzled. Although you couldn't see the doors from here, you could hear perfectly fine, and the scratching noise revealed itself one again. It was like fingernails on a chalk board, but different. Perhaps a branch had snapped off the tree in the front of your house, and maybe it had been blown to the front of the house.
That seemed unlikely, but what was even more unlikely was that someone was trying to break in. After all everyone in the whole neighbourhood knew who you were. You were the type of person who blended into the back ground, but only because you wanted to. You didn't like attention constantly on you. But when people started things with you? Well... They ended quite quickly. Even adults were aware of your somehow respect commanding presence. With a roll of your scarlet eyes you turned on your heel and headed back up the stairs, retreating to your room. It was painted dark purple and black, with multiple band posters plastered to the wall. Your friends had often left their signatures all over the surfaces as well, and multiple messages had been written there for you to read when you were down. There was a rather large one you'd found one day, that you were rather fond of despite it's simple appearance. It was just a circle with an X through it. It was drawn in a scratchy manor and it had become your favourite, however none of your friends had decided to own up to making it.
You pushed the thoughts away but brushed a hand against it's design as you passed it heading for your desk again. Sinking into your comfortable big boss chair you spun around once and then once again faced the computer. Pausing to squirt a mouthful of jam in your mouth you scroll boredly through Tumblr, reblogging a kitten climbing into a dogs mouth, and then a funny picture of Drake and Obama shaking hands. Had that happened? You just enjoyed the funny expressions on both their faces and kept scrolling. As you indulged in the absolute fuckery that was Tumblr you noticed your music wasn't playing and went to select another song. Pulling up your youtube tab, you stared at it puzzled. It said that it was still playing. The red line growing longer inch by inch. The video moved but there was no noise. You tried taking the headphone jack out and then plugging it back in. But your efforts ended in vain, and the music did not play. "Meh." Was all you said.
As you moused over back to Tumblr, the sound from earlier scratched against your window. You stopped. Your room was on the top floor. No branch could reach that high, unless the whole tree had toppled over and it was about to come crashing through your wall. Doubting your theory you got up and padded across your room towards your window.
Instead of being a dumb bitch like most chicks in horror movies, you simply lean up against the base of your bed post and bring your hands up in front of you. Your weird range of friends, were always glad to play fight with you, and you fancied yourself a rather good fighter. Crackling your knuckles briefly, you reached out with a hand and brushed the silky black curtain away in one swift movement.
What met your gaze sent ice running through your veins, as your heart paused in its duty to pump blood through your body. A pure white head stared back at you.
Or rather... it felt like it was staring. Since it clearly was. However no eyes graced the face, nor a nose or a mouth for that matter. You staggered backwards, slipping away from your bed frame and instead collapsing on your bed. You clenched your fingers close to your palms, forming fists and gripping so hard that your knuckles went white. You refused to cower in fear, even if it meant your life. Why were you so scared anyway? It could have been a prank. It could have been someone in a mask. But it seemed to real. The white skin looked like real skin, not fabric. And the height from the ground to your window.
Something wasn't right. Panic was rising in your chest, and you resisted every human instinct in your body. Instead you opened your mouth and let out a low threatening growl. Then, as if the glass were only an illusion, the face slipped right through it and a man's figure began melting out of the wall. Black suit. Red tie. Snow whiter than skin. Faceless, earless. Just as you'd suspected.
After a few heartbeats the man had completely materialized before you. Tall enough that his head grazed the ceiling and lanky enough to be described as slender. Shadows moved behind him, in the shade of tentacles. The black tendrils slithered in the air like snakes or a flag in the breeze. The Slenderman just stared at you, doing nothing, as the room went eerily quiet. The breeze outside was gone, the hum of your computer's modem was silenced and Little Terror, your white rabbit, was soundless in his cage.
The whole room seemed to be waiting on you. What were you going to do?