Started thinking about Christmas shopping today. Not sure what to get my brother, I've got him a Huffer T-shirt every year for the past 5 years and it'd be nice to get him something different.
It's a pity the 7th Harry Potter movie won't be out on DVD by then because my sister loves Harry Potter. She's obsessed. Her 18th was Harry Potter themed for gods sake. Some girls make their boyfriends read Twilight, Elaine made hers read Harry Potter. And watch all the movies. They went to the midnight screening and everything.
Also, Chess saw him again. We'd got out a movie (Boy, director Taka Waititi. Worth watching) since neither of us have work Thursday night, and while I was taking it out of the DVD player Chess went and looked out the window and swore.
I went to look and I couldn't see anything. Literally, I have 20/20 vision and the pavement was empty. It wasn't there. Meanwhile Chester was staring fixedly at one spot across the road. Our conversation went as follows.
C: (angry) What's that piece of shit doing here?
G: He's here?
C: Yeah. Across the road, number 27. Next to the recycling bin.
G: (short pause) Chess, I can't see him.
C: (impatient) Motherfucker's right there. He's there. He's just standing there with his arms open, Vieve.
G: Don't take that tone with me, Chester. I didn't say he wasn't there. I just can't see him.
C: What? Your vision is better than mine though. I'm not wearing my glasses and I can see him.
G: It might not be a matter of eyesight.
C: So he's not after you?
G: I'm not that optimistic. If not now, someday.
(Chester gives Slendy the finger and shuts the curtains.)
I can't see him. I know about him, I'm better informed than Chester at any rate. But I can't see him. Either that or Chester has been compromised, somehow. This might have been going on longer than I think. Either way, this probably isn't good.
I've told him to get out of here, get running. He's renting out his house (which he actually owns, lucky bugger, it was his grandfather's and got left to him when he died) and I think he's deliberating whether to start running now or after something more definite than Slendy hanging around outside some dustbins across the road.
In my last entry I mentioned a folder of my drawings from when I was 12 or 13 that my dad kept for sentimental reasons. I was never very good at drawing faces, so I used to leave them blank.
I haven't shown them to Chester, he'd just freak out. He's not in a good way, so I'll wait for him to calm down a bit.
I'll keep you posted if anything happens.