A Slender Man's Tale

Troubled some may say, although unspoken is what I appraise. For the slender man, much of like a child, would take the street abruptly speaking his word of immense expression, reciting trouble deeper within that nor he could comprehend. Although it may have seemed to be a strange combination of tales. He spread perception of hope and love to the people, if taken notice.

And for the streets of this troubled land, it was all so common to seeing people just like this slender man.

This land was darkened by a force so strong. It would take a life with one toke to the lungs. It would silence the minds from the brilliant to weak, sending the city into a devastating peak.

Neanderthals is to how some turned, sharpening their tools not too far off the ground. Entering to that force so dark, that blue was their final state and mark.

And down the street I wonder as lost, with a tale untold and my memory at cost. Taken back by the restless streets, with no where to go but people to meet.

It felt almost quite certain to cross paths with this man, that one blustery day on my periodic escapade.

His wild stance, barely holding up his pants, he glanced at me and grinned. And I swear to have seen Jupiter in those worldly eyes of his.

He would came to me with little quests to journey in the night. He knew just how I like to frolic under the silver lights.

For the time we shared was aligned at least and it really did get me out of some of my biggest heaps.

We would share our thoughts and tales so deep, that everything reversed it seemed. For every thought there ever was that could have ever been was gone. And all we felt was pure at heart, but surly things like that don't last.

He used to sit up late at night, I believe his dreams were an awful fright. He would instead sit there for hours jotting down in a book, that he held oh so dearly I never looked. It was worn at the edges much like him and a smooth black cover suited to his favourite pair of his jeans.

Id watch him when id wake in sleep and admire the way he looked so serene. Hunching over the pages as though there were tales flooding out of his bones.

We would share our thoughts and warmth of hand, and find peace upon this troubled land. An entanglement of love, like trees, just how branches meet the leaves.

Nevertheless deep inside our heart was something aching to be set free and pass.

He spoke to me one of those restless nights, whilst writing in the darkened light. I wish to share my story with you and I would like you to try and do that too.

Passing his book with a ball tipped pen, asking for if id share my tales with him. I opened the pages and began to view, in his little black book now healing two. A letter of sorrow that gave me insight of why he is disturbed all of those nights.

“Suddenly an unforeseen energy strikes this lifeless frame I put to rest each night, jolting out of a state of ease back to wiping those sinuous tears. Conveying a tremendous pain through each of my veins flowing a poison so crippling I can't bare to open my eyes. As each day comes I push for hope to regain my power and see the light of day again. A day where my mind can rest and my body can laze into life’s beautiful quest. A day where my pain can stream away giving strength to my soul to find a different way.”

Knowing this about him brought us closer together that we started to go out to enjoy life or whatever...

We would galavant linking arms, but still with a bottle within our demands. And although we had each other, in time his hole deemed to be much more deeper.

Our times together grew into absent minds, filling our torsos with nothing refined.

Anything to numb the feeling of this inability of breathing.

He used to stay there in the night to know that I was sleeping alright. But now I woke and he was often gone, nestled in things he knew to be wrong. The darkened force had taken hold once again, and I was awfully afraid I would never see him again.

And down those streets I wonder once more, with my memory at cost and my tales too raw. Now alone with our little black book, I feel inclined to write my put. I took my place on a near park bench and opened the pages once again. Pleading with the darkened force wondering whether there was or not another course.

“I sit alone in this human world with lost a betrayed faces. Searching for that magic spark to tell me its all worth it. I wonder, I'm weak, I'm beaten, by the dark. When will this life show me the beauty withheld that our bodies and souls so longingly long for. To feel free, yet apart of something truely greater?”

I wrote pleading with the force.

With the cold on my nose making its way to my toes, I watched as the sun surpassed. Giving out a purple spread amidst where the tree lines start. And without thought I made my walk forgetting our book behind, with all our notes and tales for anyone to find.

Coming to notice what I had done the very next day, I awoke feeling all so much disarray. Rushing to that same park bench, to be pleasantly surprised that our book was there still awaiting for me to arrive.

I picked it up and curiously turning each page, just checking if anything had been changed. An unidentifiable style of writing caught my eye.

It seemed as though our book had been noticed and the person whom found it read through our conquests.

And in that writing there was a note, questioning how we ever stayed afloat. Alongside a plentiful cheque that could change our lives for the very best.

I looked around for who it ought to be so truly kind, to leave behind something so substantially useful for this time. And with no one in sight I took off with delight, to announce this unimaginable event. And to find the where about of the slender man one again.

It was an easy task to do, as the streets were a meeting ground for the lost and nothing to do’s.

I returned to him and with a grin, much like the one once bestowed upon him. With a little black book much just like his but this one was blank with nothing within. Besides for two tickets straight for Germany, Berlin with a note affirming that our next chapter was to begin. Leaving the life of troubles away, taking flight to a better day.