My Boyfiend Slenderman

Ch. 2 - The Shadow Stalker

Waking up on a Saturday is like a gift. No alarms buzzing in my ears, no mad dash out the door at the crack of dawn and best of all pancakes in pajamas while checking out my YouTube subscribers.

Priorities first! I write down my dreams. Last night I dreamt of a world overrun by spiders and a scientist who made an ant eater genetically modified to eat them instead of ants. I was supposed to train the anteater, but every time I saw the wriggling spiders they were just shadows of tuxedo man.  Man, even before graphing it with my starchart book I realize I need a boyfriend! 

My graphing signals must be crossed because the stars say look out for danger and beware of strangers who are out to do you harm. Sometimes I swear this book was written by a phone psychic. I mean, the crazy turban wearing long nailed lady kind who charges 9.99 a minute after the first minute but you don't find that out until your dad is purple from the phone bill and your face is covered in his spit from the yelling. (How was I supposed to know Madame Matilda was a fraud whose spiel lasted 20 minutes!!).

I text Ashely the results with the number 2. That's my lowest ranking so far and wait for the bling. She texts back a 6 and says she dreamt of a psycho chasing her and the charts say she shouldn't leave the house today.

I text back "LOL. The stars are whacked today!!"

Tonight we have band practice so I spend my day scouring the inter web looking for inspiration. We're on our third practice and don't have a look yet. Everyone knows you can't be an amazing band without the look. Don't get me wrong, the girls are all trying hard to learn their instruments. But we aren't going to be the next big thing without a wow factor and everyone knows that the bands that make it didn't get on top by the quality of their music.

I've got some great tips by the time I get to Jackie's garage for practice. And it isn't long before the five of us are sprawled out on couches eating pizza and discussing band names. Taylor announced that her parents are going to a wedding next weekend and she wants to have a debut party for the band. We all decide it's a fabulous idea and since she'll be alone all weekend we can just crash over there and practice Friday night and spend Saturday setting things up. I make sure to announce I have plans on Sunday so I don't have to be part of the clean up crew! (I'm always thinking!!)

There's ten minutes left of practice so we pick up our instruments and get to work. I'm lead singer but decided during my web research that lead singers look cooler if they play guitar so I grab a broom for effect. I don't have a guitar today, but assure the girls I'll have one by Wednesday's rehearsal.  I'm just dedicated like that.

After a few air guitar solos and five minutes of lip-syncing we're ready to call it quits. I go into the bathroom to check out my reflection because it's time to start cleaning up the garage.

"Hello love!  You want a ride home tonight?" Ashley's mom belts out from the kitchen.

"No thank you, I had three slices of pizza, I need to walk it off".  I actually wouldn't mind a ride but Ashley's mom is a nonstop talker. Ten minutes in the car with her and I'd be dehydrated from her sucking the life out of me and dizzy from holding my breath at her swerving around corners. I didn't need all that. It's only a few blocks away.

When I get back to the garage clean up was over. I apologized for missing out and blamed a possible lactose allergy for my lengthy stay. Truth is, Ashley's lower bathroom has great lighting and a mirror that makes you look slim. I could stay in there and fake glamour shot all day!

I'm the first one to leave. Lana is about to go into a full scale play by play of her make out session with Carl. Unless it's Carl from The Walking Dead I don't find any interest in her erotica. She's big on details and every day seems she's got a coupon giveaway for get to first base take second and third for free.

Tonight the breeze is cool, I zip my hoodie and curse myself for forgetting my headphones. My converse make no noise in Ashley's quiet neighborhood.  Tonight not even the dogs are carrying on.

About a block into my walk I notice my favorite tuxedo looking tree, standing on the corner. I can't help wonder if I really do have a lactose allergy causing supernatural visions or my city has invested in a new tree incentive to combat pollution. I do know however, that they don't plant trees on concrete corners. Especially trees wearing tuxedos. I stop and pretend to tie my shoes to think it out. When I look up again it's still there, Long dark branches slowly swinging and reaching.

I decide it's the pizza and have a little fun with it by walking faster towards it while I begin to catcall. "Oh yeah, I'll climb those branches Mr.Tree! Move over squirrels, this one is all mine!"

I laugh hysterically at my humor. I mean, suddenly I really do seem like I've got a thing for these new trees. Between last night and today I'm a cousin of the acorn, nuts!

When I'm half block from the object of my fascination a car starts heading down the road my way. I'm distracted for just a moment making sure I don't get run over and see a shadow dart to my left ahead. When the headlights shine on the tree corner I clearly see a stop sign with a Target bag wrapped around it. I crack up again. Seriously, I've gotta find a date.

I've got 20 minutes until curfew and I decide to take the long route. (If Chester is in the alley again tonight I'm not taking any chances).

The corner at the far end of my block is a community soccer field. This time of night it is always deserted. It's dim lights make the goals look like sad discarded furniture at a dump. Staring out at the white painted lines I imagine myself being an Olympic soccer star. Scoring the game winning goal and being an American hero. I do the dab and parade around on my teammates shoulders waving to the cheering crowd chanting my name. God, if only soccer wasn't so much running and wearing hideous clothes, I could so do that!!

As I turn to leave I see it again. The dark shadow of the tux tree. Just dim enough to have an outline but I'm sure it's there!! I begin to wonder if it's the spirit world giving me a secret message. I climb over the fence and walk slowly towards the darkest part of the field. I keep my voice slow and even so I don't scare it away. (Everyone knows spirits don't like loud noises).

"You trying to tell me something?  I'm listening, don't be afraid, come closer". I speak clearly and slowly,  just in case it's new at its job and intimidated by my awesomeness.

The shadow figure stretches and its arms slowly reach out towards me. I stand still waiting. I feel the breeze upon my skin and a whisp of hair blows across my cheek and claps me in the eye. I grab my eye and instinctively rub. My false eyelash comes partially detached and sticks the bottom lid to my top one. I grab my iPhone and with one eye, in the dark, try to find the self facing camera to restore my vision. 

With my current disability I accidentally turn on the forward facing camera with the flash. In a blur I see something long and thin right in front of me but when the flash goes off it quickly retreats to the shadows.

I finally get the camera correct and fix my sight by removing the fake lash all together. Ugh. Now I'm hideous and certainly don't want to be seen in public (even with the hopes of meeting an otherworldly spirit messenger). I climb back towards the fence and make a mad dash home proud of my current record of two runs in two nights!  I'm gonna look awesome by prom.