I'm gonna start this with Slender man isn't real, ok? Ok.
So when I was 12 years old (this is about 5 years ago, so slender man and creepypastas were a really big thing, bigger than they are now in my opinion) I was really into the whole creepypasta scene, specifically slender man. Looking back, it kind of makes me cringe (I went as far as to say Jeff The Killer was my older brother, ew plz no) but it made sense.
I was super lonely as a 12 year old, and I had unrestricted access to the internet. So I spent most of my time on the computer. When I found out slender man was a thing I was intrigued. I saw the pictures and the YouTube videos, the stories and games and all that jazz. I thought he was real, like legit.
I didn't really belong anywhere back then, I saw slender man as someone who could take you away, to somewhere you could belong, if that makes sense.
I scribbled all of the 8 pages from the slender games onto paper and hung them around my room. I put one in my school binder cover as well, I thought if people saw it, they would leave me alone (I was bullied intensely in middle school.)
2 years ago I moved out of the house I was living in at the time. While taking down my bedroom curtains, I saw a piece of lined paper taped to my window. When I turned it over I almost started crying and freaking out. It was one of the pages I put there 2 years prior, but I had forgotten all about them. I had taken down all the other pages around the room about a year earlier, I had just missed the one. It didn't take me long to remember that I had put it there, but it nearly gave me a heart attack.
Just a little story about the dumb sh!t I did to cope as a middle schooler.