The Slender Man (8 page)

I want to look back, to see if it's chasing me, or maybe to
see if it's just a trick of the mind, but I'm too afraid to, and with the loud
sound of leaves crumbling, branches snapping, and the wind rushing past my
face, I'm lucky to hear myself breathe. I run for who knows how long until I
see the light at the end of the tunnel. The end of the forest! I have a leaden
weight of terror in my stomach as I draw near though.
What if it's just
toying with me?
What if it's waiting to pounce and drag me back into the
woods, just as I'm about to emerge? I sprint faster, if that's even possible,
and close my eyes as I clear the woods. If it does grab me, I don't want to see
that horizon dragged away from me. I hear something. It sounds like something
screeching.
Oh no! It's coming
.

I hear a loud honk, and open my eyes just in time to see
myself run right into a car. It had already stopped moving before I hit it, but
my stomach tells me I still ran into it too hard.

“Alyssa? What is the matter with you?” I hear. I open my
eyes. Karen Willow is standing before me, frightened as can be.

“You look like you've seen a ghost. Are you okay?” she asks.
The throbbing pain in my stomach subsides a bit before I'm able to speak.

“I thought something was chasing me. I'm not sure what it
was,” I finally answer.

She looks back at the tree line, eyes wide. “Well I don't
see anything, you must have lost it,” she says. I chuckle a bit as I think
about what I saw. “It might have been a snake. I honestly didn't look at it
hard enough to tell,” I say without thinking. Did I really see the fiend at the
top of the hill with that tree?

No. I laugh again. I saw the tree, that's what spooked me. I
let out a small breath.

“Well if it was a snake, it probably took off just as fast
as you did-in the other direction,” she says.

“Yeah, sorry. Did I hurt your car?” I ask. I look and can't
see any apparent damage.

She brushes the hood as if to knock dust off before shaking
her head.

“No it looks fine. Say, I just came from your house. I
invited your brother to Lionel's birthday party next week. You're welcome to
come too. I think Lionel feels bad about how he cried in front of you at the
funeral.

“Oh um, sure I'll try and make it.”
If I'm not grounded,
I
leave out.

 “Oh great, he'll love to see you! Anyway I have to head
out, try not to run into any more cars,” she says before turning to get back
inside.

“Alright I'll try,” I say
with a small smile. Damn tree.

The ride to Shana's house isn't as happy as I hoped it would
be. Dad is barely letting me come today. I don't think he's as mad about the
fact that I cheated on the essay as he is about how it makes him look. How would
me not bringing one in look? How about that huh? I'm not going to forgive Ms.
Alder any time soon. Maybe what I did is wrong, but it's not her business to go
out of her way to prove it. It's just a grade.

I'm grounded over the weekend, which normally would be okay
with me, seeing as I don't leave the house much anyway, but that means I won't
get to see Shana then. The only reason I'm even allowed to go today is because
my Mom thinks it's a good idea to be forgiving on the Sabbath.

Adam and Bubbe would have come, but Adam is still sick, and
we think it's best she watch over him while we're out. This time Adam sleeps in
her room so he won't go on any random trips during the night. When we get to
the Hawthorn's, the house is as glum as I feel. Dad greets them with a bright
smile and a “Shabbat Shalom,” but something is keeping the Hawthorn's from
rejoicing- besides Denise's death.

We get inside and see Shana sitting upon a couch, not even
looking up at us. Did she get in trouble about the essays too? No Dad said none
of us should mention it to them because it would cause unnecessary trouble, and
if the teacher or principal called they wouldn't answer the phone, so they
wouldn’t know from the school either. I walk over to Shana and attempt to hug
her, but it takes her a while to figure out what I was doing, and then she only
feebly reaches up and hugs back.

“I'm sorry, I tried to come earlier but,” I start, but she
isn't making eye contact. It's as if she's hardly aware that I'm here. “Is she
on any medication?” I ask Mr. Hawthorn. He sighs.

“None that would do this. It's Denise, she keeps mumbling
her name. I think maybe she blames herself and it's setting in. We are taking
her to see a doctor after the shivah,” he explains.

“Well why not now? She's, it’s like she's catatonic,” I
protest.

“Now Alyssa, this is none of your business. You let them
handle Shana and we'll handle you,” says Dad. I grind my teeth together. Shana
needs help now, and she might not be this way if I’d arrived this afternoon.

“We should get dinner set,” says Mom. She and Mrs. Hawthorn
head down into the kitchen. Mr. Hawthorn goes back after them. Dad starts to go
in.

“Come on,” he demands.

“We shouldn't leave her alone,” I say, taking her hand and
trying to draw a response from her.

“Now, Alyssa,” he demands again. Every time he snaps at me
my mind flashes to Ms. Alder. I want to slap her, probably just as Dad wants to
slap me. I get up and pull on Shana's hand. Slowly, she begins to rise up. She
gets on her feet and slowly turns her head in my direction, but she's looking
through me. Her demeanor oddly reminds me of Adam's behavior when we caught him
wandering through the road last night. With me pulling her hand, she follows.
Dad at least doesn't stop me from guiding Shana. He may be irritated with me
for the essays, but even he can't deny that something is wrong with Shana, and
something that clearly can't wait until Wednesday. I seriously hope they say
something during dinner.

We gather around the table and Mom guides everyone through
the Motzi. During shivah the mourners still observe the Sabbath, which helps to
lighten up the mood a little, but the absence of Shana's... lucidity, ruins the
mood, at least for me. Shana doesn't eat at all, not even any of the challah.
She does push her food around a bit though.

Today, our parents stay off the topic of Denise, so
conversation is easy to carry. The Hawthorn parents keep trying to draw me in,
but it seems Dad doesn't want me doing too much talking. When the Hawthorn's
ask

 “How was school today Alyssa?” he answers for them

“She failed her essay, a big one.” It's true that I failed
the essay, seeing as I will end up getting a zero, but he's leaving out exactly
how I failed the essay.

After dinner, Mrs. Hawthorn says

“Why don't you and Shana go hang out upstairs, we'll take
care of cleaning up.” I can't tell if she's hoping my presence will help
restore Shana's mood, or if she caught onto how awkward Dad is making the
conversation. I have to guide Shana upstairs. It's as if my hand tugging on her
is the only thing guiding her through her thoughts. When we get up to her room
however, she let's go of my hand and walks over to her bed. She sits down on it
and pulls her knees in, wrapping her arms around them.

“Is it Denise?” I ask, hoping to draw some kind of
conversation out of her.

“Denise, it's not Denise. It's not her,” she answers,
rocking herself.

“You said you were seeing her.”

She looks at me, this time directly in the eye. It looks
like she wants to cry, but there are no tears.

“It's not her,” she repeats. “Who is it then?” I ask. With
that question she stops moving as if to think. She furrows her brow as if she
thinks she should know the answer, but it's not coming to her.

I note how dark the circles underneath her eyes are. “Have
you been able to get any sleep?” I ask.

“I don't want to sleep,” she says, her body rigid with
terror.

“Why not? Is that when you see her?” I ask.

“He wants me to sleep,” she says.

“Who is he? Who are you seeing?” She bites her lip in
response and shakes her head. “Is it the static? It won't let you sleep?” I
ask.

She looks back at up at me. She opens her mouth to speak,
but then stops. She does this a couple times before finally getting out what
she wants to say.

“Don't leave me again.” As much as I want to tell her that I
won't, my thoughts run to my Dad, and how if I were to dig my nails into the
floor, he'd be willing to drag me out. I could kick and scream and he won't be
willing to let me stay here.
If I hadn't turned in those essays.
I sit
beside her on the bed and put my arm around her.

“I need you to be strong,” I say. I feel her shudder. She
may not be herself, but she definitely understands what I'm trying to say to
her.

“The essays didn't work,” I say. I figure if I get her off
topic, I can pull her back to herself.

“The essays didn't work,” she repeats.

“The essays,” she continues. I'm not doing a very good job.

“Why did you choose that story?” I ask.

“The story,” she says. I think she's getting worse.

“Shana, listen to me. Why did you write that story?” She
doesn't answer. I feel a wave of static pass through me. I know what this is.

“Shana?” I ask. I look at her, and see her eyelids have
closed. “Shana!?” I say, trying to wake her up, before she- or even I see it.

She jumps awake and looks at me.  She pauses for a moment
and then begins panting and trembling. Finally she says.

“Don't leave,” again. I don't know what to say at this
point, other than point out the fact that she definitely needs psychological
help. I hold her, and she keeps saying

 “Don't leave me. Stay here,” over and over again, as if
begging me not to.

It breaks my heart when Dad comes up to tell me I have to. I
hear the door open.

“Alright, let's go,” he says.

“Dad I-”

“No.”

“Dad listen-”

“Can it!” I feel his hand around my arm and he yanks me up.
He really will drag me out even if I kick and scream. Before we leave the room,
I look back at Shana and see that she's buried her head into her knees. She's
crying now, and even I feel like I’m about to. It's not just because I'm sad to
see her like this, but because I've seen weird things too, and I know something
bad is about to happen.

The drive home is silent. I'm too busy worrying about Shana
to say anything, and Dad is too busy not wanting to hear me complain to get me
started.

When we get home, there is no Adam wandering the street. I
guess having him go to sleep in Bubbe's room with his medicine did the trick.
When we get inside, Dad tells me to get any homework I have left done, and then
get to bed. I don't know why he emphasizes the homework. What homework I do
have can all be done over the weekend, and since it's unlikely I'll be doing
anything fun while being grounded, I'll have few distractions. Of course the
distractions I have are huge. Like the strange things I’m seeing, the missing
people, and most of all, Shana.

I'm not sleepy immediately, so after I'm in my pajamas-a
plain tank top and sweat pants- I do as my dad said and work on my homework. No
essays this week, but I do have a chemistry lab on Monday. We will be doing an
experiment on... I don't even know. I flip open the book and try to find the
pages that look like we went over most recently. I finally find a chapter on
covalent bonding that looks familiar because of the pictures. I read over the
chapter, but it takes me a while to cover it, because my mind keeps drifting
off to Shana, and although my eyes are reading, my mind is worrying. Once I do
finish the chapter I still have no idea what a covalent bond does, or even is.

I am starting to get drowsy from the stress and reading, but
I decide to at least look over history. U.S history is a little easier. It's
mostly about remembering names and dates, and if you get that right, A minus.
As I read over the chapter the homework assignment is on, I think about Shana
less. Maybe because social studies is less involved it's easier for your mind
to stay on it. After reading a few pages though, my drowsiness kicks in and I
lay my head down next to the book. I'm feeling lazy, but with my light on I'm
not getting anywhere near sleep.

I force myself to get up, push the book off my bed, and
flick the light off. It's a little warm, so I only cover up with my top
blanket. While lying down, I close my eyes to go to sleep. With my eyes closed
and my mind sleepy I should be able to fall asleep quickly, but with a heart
full of anguish and worry, I don't. As I replay the events of today over my
head, I feel a few tears rolling down my cheek onto my pillow. From missing
students, to failed essay, to Shana, whose only wish is for me to stay with her
so she won't have to face Denise or “him” alone. I've succeeded in nothing
today.

After a few more minutes, I feel that I am almost asleep,
but then I hear wind rushing and open my eyes. I can't move.
It’s happening
again!
I think. I repeat the process of sending movement commands to my
body, but this time I don't feel that slight twitch. Instead, I feel the
static, or the numbing force that's holding me down pulse. It's like the more I
fight, the stronger the force gets. Is he here? I look around with my eyes,
probably the only part of my body I can move. I can sense him, but the room is
empty.

Maybe he’s going for Adam again? I can't see Adam in Bubbe's
room across the hall, and even though I can't see the fiend, I know he’s going
for Adam now. Maybe if I wake up, I can get up. How do I wake up though? Last
time I screamed myself awake. My lips are open just a bit, and I begin to push
my voice out, but there's no sound. I try as hard as I can, to get that moan to
come out, but there's nothing this time. It's as if he’s stronger than before.
I close my eyes. Maybe if I try to go to sleep, I will wake up? With my eyes
closed, I try and drift into sleep, but then it hurts.

The static screeches and the grip tightens. I try to open my
eyes, but I can't. No, am I locked in this blackness? I can still feel the bed
pressing against me, but the static isn't letting up, and I can't even open my
eyes. When I tried to drift into sleep, the grip tightened. Is this what Shana
meant? Is this why she wouldn't go to sleep?

It is, she was fighting him! I have to too. I do everything
I can to squirm, scream, and open my eyes. I feel my body trying to obey the
commands from my brain, but his force won’t relent. How long do I have to fight
before he leaves? It feels like a minute; five; ten, but as I vainly fight I
feel my heart racing, and my strength waning. Is he winning? I feel myself
slipping... and then a tap.

I open my eyes and almost scream when I see something that
looks like a shadowy hand disappearing underneath my bed. Not from around the
bed, through it! I jump off the bed and hit the light switch in a single
motion. I drop to the floor and look underneath the bed; nothing there.

“Adam,” I mutter. I rush to Bubbe's room. Relief hits me as
I see Adam in a pallet by her bed. He's breathing, and he's asleep. After
splashing some water on my face, I walk back to my room. I consider falling
back asleep. My body is tired, but what if that thing attacked, and won? I
don't know what to make of it. Perhaps it was part nightmare, part real? I hope
it's all nightmare and none of it is real, but I sleep with my light on just
for the illusion of safety.

In what seems like only an hour, I feel hands pushing me. I
violently jerk up and see my mother.

“Get up, something's wrong,” she says. She hurries out of
the room before I have a chance to respond. I hurry up behind her and my mind
races. What could be wrong? Is it something to do with the static? Mom runs
downstairs. I can see through the window that it's early morning. Adam was fine
when I went to sleep, so unless he took him after the attack it wasn't him.

Maybe it left a message? I don't know what is happening, so
I hurry downstairs as quickly as I can. When I get downstairs I'm surprised to
see Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorn are standing there speaking with my Dad.  When I come
from around the stairway, they all look at me. Mrs. Hawthorn has tears in her
eyes.

 “Shana,” I mutter to myself. Dad speaks first.

“Something's happened to Shana.”

“Is she dead?” I ask horrified.

“We don't know,” he answers.