Naturally, I was ashamed and frightened, as I didn't expect that I'd ever have to find myself in a situation in which I'd need to explain this. When I had finally gained the courage to speak, I said, "When I did that, I wasn't myself."
"What do you mean?" Jeremy asked.
"I had been having nightmares. I don't even remember cutting up the porn. When I woke up, I just… found it, all over my bed. I didn't know what to do, so I just put it in another box."
"Was Charlie here?"
"No," I said, "I think that he was on a road trip. I was alone; I had no one to talk to about this. This was before we'd even found Tommy."
"Would you like me to get him up here?" Jeremy suggested, "He'd understand."
"Tommy, or Charlie?"
"Tommy."
"No." I said, "He's calling his folks… This is pretty disturbing isn't it?"
Jeremy answered honestly. "Yeah." He said, "It's deeply disturbing. But you went through a traumatic experience. So, while this is screwed up, I'm not entirely surprised."
"Did anyone fill you in? Do you fully understand what this is all about?"
"Yeah, Charlie gave me the basics. 'Slender Man', right?" I nodded, and he continued, "I didn't really believe him, at first. But, after what happened in that old amusement park, I'm starting to get what he meant."
"Charlie tries." I commented, "But he doesn't really grasp the terror that I felt. He knows what happened to me, and what happened to Tommy, but he doesn't have any true connection. Neither do you, really, but I sense that something happened to you. You might get it."
Jeremy sat up, putting down the altered porn. "You haven't really told me what happened to you guys." He said.
Tommy's story isn't really mine to tell." I said, "But here's mine."
He listened intently, as I told him what happened. He seemed frightened and confused, at times, but he said nothing. He waited until I had finished.
"Geez," he remarked, "I didn't know that it was that bad. I'm sorry." He stopped, for a moment, to collect himself. Then, he resumed speaking. "Why didn't you burn these?" He asked, "I'd hate to have those under my bed."
"I guess that I'm kind of fascinated by them, in a way. I stare at them, trying to figure out what was in my head, when I altered them. It helps to remind me to never return to that state."
"I don't think that they help you." Jeremy pointed out, "I think that they screw you up. They make you hollow."
I raised an eyebrow. "How'd you know?" I questioned.
"Because the same thing happened to me, when I kept the pictures of my father." At that moment, we put away the box, as the others were entering the room.
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