Sorry, my bad. I'm just trying to keep my spirits up. Most probably none of you get the reference anyway.
Well, I suppose I should start with what happened between Wednesday and Saturday. Here's a list of significant events:
... Hence the lack of posting.
Yesterday decided to be different. The weather turned cold, and there was snow on the hills. No snow here, though. When I was coming back from the shops, for a split second I thought I saw Malinky following me, but then when I turned he wasn't there. I simply shivered and carried on.
After dinner, I got to my room and found Susan looking at Robin's mask. I asked her what she was doing, and she jumped. She looked sad, and then she said "I wish I could've met him."
"Robin?" I asked, slightly perplexed.
"Yeah." She paused and I sat down next to her. I held out my hand and she gave me the mask. All the memories came to the front of my mind, and I felt tears seeping into my eyes. "If you hadn't dug your heels in, it could have been us."
I looked at her. She had tears in her eyes as well.
"Yeah." I felt bad about the things I'd said to him. He didn't seem like a bad person, and yet I acted as if I hated him. "Why did he have to be so ... nice?" Susan gave me a weird look. "It would have been so much easier if he was a bad person."
"He wasn't so nice to you in the beginning."
I thought back. To when he'd tackled me, to when he'd pinned me down after I tried to run, to when he grabbed me in the street and gleefully told me his boss had given me two weeks. I remembered how big he seemed at the time, how frightened I was at the time. But it turned out he was the same age as me. I held back a bitter laugh as I realised what a hypocrite I'd been.
"Yeah, he was a little warped, but who are we to talk? I treated him like some weirdo, when he was just trying to be friendly." I shook my head and thought of the times I'd tried to push him away. It was only at the very end, when I thought I was about to die, that I'd let myself relax around him. "I should have gotten to know him better."
I started crying. Susan faded away. I could feel her sympathy, though, even though she said nothing.
This morning was another early start. There was snow on the ground, and the air was at that temperature where it completely sucks the heat out of anything that touches it for more than a few seconds. I wrapped up warm, but the wind decided to join in, so after just a few minutes I was already feeling pretty chilled.
When I was nearing the bus stop, I could see the commuters lined up against the wall, bored as usual. But someone else was there as well, standing right next to them. I was already cold, so the sight didn't perturb me. (It's hard to feel fear when you're already willing yourself forward against the freezing cold.) Heh, if it weren't for the time of year, he would have fitted right in, what with his business suit and all.
[The road was a mix of water and grit, but there was more than half an inch of snow on the pavement. Not much by our standards (and a piffling amount compared to last year) but I'm sure it would be enough to send London grinding to a halt, am I right?]
So, I carried on, crossing the road, and approached the bus stop as usual, though slightly wary of the tall dude. I stopped when I was next to him. I didn't want to look up and expose my neck to the wind, but I had no choice if I wanted an inkling of what he was thinking. He reached out his hand, and after a moment of thought I took it. He led me a little away from the commuters; farther down the street to a wider section of pavement. Snowflakes started to float down.
We stopped around the middle of that wider space. When he spoke, it took me completely by surprise. At first I didn't understand what he said. It was quiet, but piercing - sort of electronic and bleepy, like a corrupted audio file.
He spoke again, this time more clearly.
"who. are. you."
It still sounded slightly electronic, but it was no longer crackly and there were much fewer random bleeps. The intonation was weird, though. The word "are" was much higher than the other words, and his pitch seemed to wobble slightly on "you". I didn't know how to answer his question, so I stood there staring back at him, shivering with the wind. After a while, he put his hands behind my head and gripped my skull. Warmness started to seep through my body, and suddenly I felt very very scared.
A series of images flashed through my mind. These were my own memories, and it was as if I was reliving them. He showed me all the bad things I'd done, the things I'm ashamed of, the times I'd been tortured, and when I'd been selfish despite instinct.
My awareness returned and the hands lifted slightly. I looked up at him, but his not-a-face didn't betray any intention or emotion.
"N-no, that's not who I am." I stammered. He tilted his head to the right, then the hands returned and more images flashed through my brain. This time, he showed me all my acts of selflessness, of mercy, of helping other despite inconvenience or sacrifice.
Again, my vision returned and the hands lifted. His head was still tilted, and he stayed motionless.
"But that's not me either."
His head returned to normal position, and his hands touched my head for the last time. Memories flooded through me, both good and bad, some neutral, and within it were summed up the most important aspects of my growth.
"Yes, that's it."
He took his hands away from me, returning them to his sides.
I was confused, but at that moment the bus rounded the corner, and I glanced at the sudden noise and light. When I looked back, the Slender Man had gone, and I walked back to the bus stop feeling cold once more, and very bewildered.
I've felt weird all day. And, yeah, I fell asleep on the bus again. I saw Pete in Maths - that hasn't happened for a while now. I told him what happened and he looked a mix of concerned and awestruck.
It's very, ... I suppose, mind-opening(?) to see your life so far, and to see how it's changed who you are. I think I'll have to reflect more on this, but also, what was he doing and why? I don't see why he'd want to "know me" like that, or why he'd want me to know who I am. Is this the thing that Robin was talking about, or was it something completely different?
Edit: And oh, yeah, 50th post. My blog now feels half a century old. And honestly, I come back from a few days of no internet to find I now have over ten followers? Well, welcome to the both of you. I don't know why on earth you'd want to read this thing, but I suppose that's none of my business.