You sigh, typing on your old computer.. school’s so boring, right? Plus, your parents make you use that old ass computer THEY used while they were in school. You lean back in your chair, glancing around your unorganized room, full of posters and clothes on the floor, and weapons.. because, honestly? Your parents didn’t give a damn about your mental health. And that? It fucked your head up. You didn’t even love your parents. The only thing you loved.. was creepypasta. Ridiculous, right? Well, no, not actually. I think we all had our creepypasta phases. (I’m still in mine)

You give up and convince yourself you’re going to finish your school work tomorrow. You lay down in your bed, grabbing your notebook and sketching messy drawings of your favorite creepypastas. You take one look at your hands, both of them have bloody, white bandaging around them.. from you constantly getting hurt while climbing trees or fences—sometimes even from peeling your own skin off.. like I said.. your not okay in the head.. when done drawing, you flop down onto your bed, closing your eyes and daydreaming—probably about creepypasta.

When you finally drift off to sleep after hours (I hate insomnia), you feel a weird tingle in the hand that was bleeding. You whimper, since it even burns now, you open your eyes, except your in a COMPLETELY different place. You sit up quickly, eyes darting around. That’s when you realize you’re in the slender mansion. Your eyes widen, and your lips twitch into a smile.. an unsettling one, at that.. because, who would have a normal smile after losing sanity?

But you also feel nervous. Yes, no one is in the spot your in of the slender mansion, but you can definitely hear them close..