I always found silence to be comforting. It's dark, long, open arms found new ways to wrap me up and keep me safe every day. In the silence, I felt like I wasn't alone. I was being held by the strongest of arms, warding away any unwanted disturbances. Although this was something that I constantly looked forward to and longed for throughout the day, it set others to think I was crazy. I just said they don't understand. When the arms take me at night in the silence, nothing feels better.

There is a man. He watches me at night. When he watches me, he burns through my gaze even though I see no eyes. No eyes, no mouth, no nose… He is just blank. This disturbs me greatly. What could he want with me…? There is no comfort in the silence now. When there is silence, he is there. I don't like that.

He is in my room now. Sitting there, staring at me with a white face. He is tall, close to eight feet. His suit is blank with a white dress-shirt underneath. He wears no tie. Or, he did, but he gave it to me to hold on to. It has a white "O" with an "X" through it at the knot, perfectly tied to reveal it around my neck. He placed it loosely around my neck, tender, saying nothing. Then he held my hands with one of his. He is friendly.

He sits on my bed, staring at me, never saying anything. I want to talk to him. At night, he comforts me, drawing that same "O" with and "X" through it on my back. It is relaxing. Sometimes I fall asleep. Sometimes I stay awake to look at the same marking on the tie. I haven't taken it off. It protects me. All the other kids that bug me about being alone all the time have run off now when they see me with it. Maybe this slender man has scared them away for me. I smile at that thought.

He spoke to me. He asked me to follow him into the woods. I did. When we came to a stop, there was a note at my feet. I bent down to pick it up. It had a stickman on it that looked an awful lot like my new companion, and then around it was scratchy writing. "No" it wrote. Everything in my body stopped. The slender man in front of me turned to face me, his head going from staring at the paper, up to my face. My breath caught in my throat. "Is this you?" No answer. "I still love you."

My friend says he doesn't have a name. "That can't be true," I say, "but if it is, we'll call you Slendy." Slendy likes his name. I know because he told me so. Slendy says he has no family. I say, "That can't be true, because I am your family." He hugs me. I guess he needs as much comforting as a fifteen year-old girl who gets bullied too much.

My mother knows of Slendy. She says I should give up on the imaginary friend; it is starting to scare her. Slendy tells me to ignore her. I do. She came up to check on me one night when I was reading to Slendy. She was angry. She took my sheets, book, and flashlight. My mother couldn't see him. Maybe Slendy is shy, since no one else seems to see my tall friend.

I ran away. I ran deep into the forest, where the crows called my name, singing it in harsh voices. They stopped as I entered a clearing, a big empty field in the shape of a circle. The circle had four sections. The lines made up an "X", just like the symbol on my tie. Slendy stood in the middle of the circle, looking down at me. He stretched out a hand, and I gingerly took it, hugging my friend tightly. "Don't let go," he whispered. "I won't," I whispered. From that night on, I decided not to return to my family. Slendy was my family. I loved him.