My Father's Plight

As I thought, my mother couldn’t hold out from my pestering for a week. But I seemed to keep running into one problem after another, delaying me for some time. I apologize for this.

And so it all comes to light, now. The most obvious seems to have been the case.

My father was protecting me. I had been in contact with one of the beasts as a child. I had had nightmares, spoken of a man that wasn’t there, who terrified and yet comforted me with open arms waiting. My mind was racked, dreams invaded, and I drew like a man possessed.

All the hallmarks are there. The drawings are gone because my mother burned them.

It started after a trip to a cabin in some small forest near our town for fishing and that sort of thing. I apparently saw it there, told my parents, and was brushed aside. I was just jumping at shadows, of course, they would say. But after we returned home, it not only continued, the condition was exacerbated. I was taken to psychologists and they found nothing. All they could tell me was that I genuinely believed I saw something, but could find nothing otherwise wrong with me. The next step was that I was really being targeted by some tall man in a suit. This was reported to the police. They of course never found such a man. This went on for some time. And then one day, my father just left early in the morning. He left a note for me, which I am trying to locate somewhere in all my family’s old belongings. Provided it hasn’t been thrown out.

Of course, that letter was his last attempt to communicate with any of us. The next thing we knew, they found him dead in that same forest. My father had perished, but within days, I realized I would never see one of those faceless things again (until now, of course).

So that’s it. I was one of the lucky children to escape. Whatever my father did, however he distracted the Slender Man, it seemed to have worked. My father saved my life.

He gave everything so I might live.

Thanks, Dad.