All Just A Game

"Ano hi mita sora,
Akane iro no sora o;
Nee kimi wa wasureta no desho?

"Yakusoku chigiri,
Shoka no kaze ni kieta.
Futari modorenai."




I've been trying to think about mundane things. Mundane things are good. They're simple, relevant to my actual life, and conveniently time-consuming.

For example, I've paid off my tuition for the coming fall semester. With grants and financial aid and whatnot, it only came down to $103. I've also procured a great deal of scholarship money over the summer. I applied all of it to the past spring semester, which means I get all of it as a cash refund from the school. My bank account now has a comforting surplus, giving me room to maneuver if things go bad...

......

God, what am I doing?


I'm sorry, everyone. It's taken me nearly a week to realize, but there is no putting it off, there is no thinking about other things. Not anymore. Even typing out that measly little paragraph above without referencing anything slender-related took over an hour, and I still wasn't exactly successful. The truth is, things have already gone bad, and they're getting worse.

It's like playing The Game. If you think about It, you lose.


Yesterday... was my last day of work. The last day I have to deal with Camden City until the fall, when college starts up and daycare turns back into an actual preschool. I had to say goodbye to all my kids. I'll see most of them again in the fall, even the ones who are advancing to kindergarten, since it's all in the same building. But they're all safe, or as safe as they'll ever be in a place like Camden. They're what I think about most when I'm scared. They're who I need to be there for, them and Michelle and Nick and Kay.

Naturally, Michelle's been sticking to me like glue lately, ever since the... Redlight incident. She's actually been insisting on coming to Camden with me now, although I don't think hanging around little kids is very good for her. She spends most of her time there drawing in her sketchpad, which I'm undecided if it's good for her or not... It seems to keep her calm, at least.

...I'm getting way off-topic.


Back to Redlight, Nick seems to be taking care of that. He seems like he takes care of everything, sometimes, but I know him. And I'm worried. There will be repercussions.

Michelle went out and got the envelope. There were photos in it, lots of them. The one she showed was one of the few that looked like natural, normal family photos (all of either her or her late brother Steven), but others were just pictures of scenery - forests, buildings, landmarks - all with It in them somewhere. Like someone was deliberately catching It on film.

The tree's still there, hoodie and all. No one can see it but us.

No one can hear it but me.


I'm trying not to think about the person that body used to belong to, but it's hard to ignore what your lower brain already knows beyond a shadow of a doubt. It has no leaves. It thrives in the darkness. It's not a tree, but it's alive. I know it's alive; I can feel the blood flow. That's why it bleeds.


I'm sorry. It's so hard to concentrate. I'm trying to ignore the screaming. I'm trying.



Michelle recognizes some of the landmarks in the photos she found. She hasn't said anything, but I know she wants to find out what happened with her family, because we thought it was her who was followed as a child, not Steven. I have to say, I kind of share that curiosity, and if she wants to leave, there's no reason why we couldn't... take a short road trip. Whatever might happen, it's infinitely healthier than what she previously wanted to do with her time. And... I've been scared to say it, but it the Time might be drawing near.

My parents get home in a week. My brothers the week after.



...The last time I saw It was yesterday afternoon, just after work let out. It was poking around the subway station, the one I always use to get home.


Music helps music helps music keeps me steady as long as It doesn't





God help me, I need to stay focused.