I Don't Believe in Myths

As children, we all had imaginary friends. Some were the very people you communicated with during your childhood or school years and others, well, were just based around your imagination. Now I wasn't a very creative little girl in my past but I thought. I thought of possible ways that a person could look like and be. About how perfect they could be in appearance but were a general stuff-up. They could be unattractive but be one of the most successful people in history. Those who could just be an average. And the one..

..who could engrave their image into the very tissues of your brain as a child, scarring you or filling you with interest for the rest of time. Who didn't have what a common human did. Who wasn't like what a common human was. Who was in the midst of his static thoughts.

**I do not own Slenderman or any other Creepypasta. This fiction will also be rated Mature just in case :3**