Walking. A noise. I turn. Nothing.
Nothing behind me. I walk again, then look down. A shadow, of a tall tall man, and tentacle like shadows behind him. He puts a hand on my shoulder, his mouth parting into a gooey demise of teeth. He won’t hurt me. He’s always there. No one believes me when I talk about him. A tall man, very tall, with no face. I never hear him, but he’s here. When I walk in my neighborhood. It’s dark and gloomy, storm clouds coming and the kids all inside, fearing the storm. The woods blow with eerie winds. They say something lives there, so old and so ancient. I walk alone, sometimes slow on my road. I look at the grey skies, and the dark forest. I feel someone behind me. I turn. Nothing there.
But there is something.
He’s there. The Man.
He watches me, over me. He’s my guardian in the Dark.
He looks harmful, and silent, and very mysterious.
People don’t understand him. I understand.
He’s lonely, always rejected, always regarded as weird, and not to be trusted.
That’s how I am. People always rejected me, and always did not like me around. I’m lonely and alone, like him.
He found me in the woods. I was crying, I ran away. No one likes me, I thought, no one loves me. He did not do away with me like he would to any wanderer in his woods. He understood me. I understood him.
He was there for me.
He is my Silent Guardian
*Moderator’s Note: Despite your views on Slenderman being friend or foe, I found this piece of art and writing cool and I would appreciate if you didn’t complain about the author’s story and just accept it for it’s fine art and great poem. Sorry, I couldn’t find a bigger image. -M