The Cowardly Lion

I was an idiot back then. It's like when you're a kid and you think there's a monster in the room so you hide under the covers because you know that covers have magical powers and monsters can't get through them. (I still totally maintain that monsters cannot get past covers, though.) So I figured, if I just stayed inside, kept my head down, kept quiet, I might be able to get away with not seeing it again.

Like I said, idiot. It appeared in my kitchen. Don't know if it's ever been in your house, but it's so much worse than seeing it outside. Because when it's outside, you know, "oh noes it is slenderman he is woods oh no i is so scared" but then it's in your fucking house and it's wrong. Because that's your kitchen. That's your fridge and your sink and your cupboards and your shitty spice rack you made for some bullshit class as a kid. That's your house, where you live, and it just comes in and-

Sorry. It's just difficult. To see it like that.

I ran. You know how all those other bloggers are like "Then I punched slenderman in the face and flipped him off and shot him and stabbed him and wrestled him and spat in his face and he ran away crying" well I'm not like that. I'm pretty sure I let out a little squeak and hobbled away as fast as I could. You read all the blogs and they always think how they won't put up with its shit anymore but guess what? I'm not like that. My thought process was more "OH HOLY SHIT IT'S HERE IT'S HERE OH FUCK OH SHIT OH GOD RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN."

I just ran. Ran and ran and ran. Didn't stop for about an hour, then collapsed and threw up for about five minutes straight. It wasn't until I had recovered a little bit I saw somebody standing over me.