Slenderman Love Story: Damned Romance

~Chapter Seven: Different~

~Alice's POV~
I wake up to the smell of hot chocolate and cheesecake. Groggily, I open my eyes. Laughing Jack is crouched in front of me, and I quickly locate the source of the smells in his hands. He grins and proffers them to me, and I push myself up into a sitting position.
"Thank you. What time is it?" I murmur sweetly, taking the food. I place the platter of cheesecake in my lap and sip the hot, rich liquid chocolate.
"It's about seven," Laughing Jack chuckles, laying a clawed hand on my hip.
I smile at him before quickly drain my cup, then dig into the cheesecake. After eating the entire--rather small--cheesecake, I push my hair back and stretch with a yawn. "Mmm...best bedtime snack ever."
"Always, child." A voice says from the door.
I look up and see Slendermam leaning against the door frame, the door still moving towards the wall slightly. I hold my breath on bad habit, glancing nervously between Sam and Laughing Jack. But suprisingly, Laughing Jack beams at Slenderman and stands up.
"How nice of you," Slenderman says slowly. "To bring her food in bed."
"Oh, I thought so too. However, I do believe you said you'd stay with her, so I'll go." He bows mockingly, smirking at me as he ducks past Slenderman and pads down the hall, singing "Pop Goes the Weasel" very loudly. Slenderman sighs, shaking his head as he walks to the bed and sits beside me. I lie my head in his lap, and he jolts slightly. I look up at him, and see a pink tinge slowly spreading through his face. Smiling up at him, I feel my heart skip a beat.
This is where you are safe and happy, a voice whispers in my mind. Here, with Sam.
But what about Jack? A second voice contradicts. He makes me happy too. I don't want to hurt him!

I don't want to hurt him at all. And he does make me happy...but not as much as Slenderman. I've made my choice. And I choose Sam.

Slenderman turns his face away. I lean up and brush my hand against his cheek, and he catches it and presses it against where his mouth would be. He runs a thumb over my knuckles and I tremble slightly.
"Are you okay?" He asks, cocking his head.
"Do you even know what you do to me?" I reply, staring up at him.
A breathy chuckle escapes him. "I think I've got a good idea."
Suddenly I'm leaning up and he's meeting me halfway. There's a flash of purple light, and then silver hair is tickling my cheek, red eyes are sliding shut at the same time as my gray ones and our lips meet.
Slenderman--Sam--takes a short breath through his nose as my hands slide up his arms and stop at the shoulders. My heart melts as a strong, passionate love explodes within me. The room melts away, all there is is Sam and I, locked in an everlasting kiss. My lips tingle, warmth fast spreading from them, washing through my face and down my body, sending a shiver toppling down my spine.

Then the moment is interrupted.

Something falls to the floor with a loud thud, and I break away. Sam and I turn to the door to see...
"Jack!" I gasp.
The look of betrayal, hurt and anger on his face is almost unbearable. What fell to the floor is a...a photo album? I dunno, but he stands completely paralyzed, looking so lost. I slowly rise off the bed.
"Jack, I never meant to hurt you, I just--!" I begin frantically.
"Stop." His cold, malicous voice shores my tongue against my teeth. "Just..don't."
He turns away from me, from Sam. "I thought that...I thought that you loved me."
"Oh, Jack...I-I'm sorry but...I can't see us like that." I whisper, taking a step forward.
"Why not? I've taken care of you ever since the fire." He spits, still looking away. "I watched over you!"
I come up behind him. "Jack, I didn't know that, I--" I reach out to rest a hand on his shoulder.
"Just shut up!" He suddenly roars, then tears down the hallway and crashes into his room, throwing open the door and slamming it shut tight behind him. I hear his sobs echo and bounce down the hallway.
"Jack, I'm so sorry. You're just different from Sam." I whisper to no one. My eyes are drawn to the book on the floor. On the front is a picture of me from the bottom rib up, my hair splayed on the green grass below me, smiling up at the camera with my eyes alit like sparklers.
I lean over and pick it up, flicking it through it. It's a photo documentary of my life before the fire. Me when I was a little girl. Then it grows...me outside the orphanage, crying my first week. Willow brushing my hair in front of the cracked, dusty mirror in the girls room. A picture of Chase and I, laughing, while Willow pulled a funny face. 
These all looked like they were taken through the windows, or in the bushes across the way. I think, with growing unease.
A picture of me in my prettiest dress when Mother Lady, the Orphanage caretaker, took me out to dinner with her and her husband one night. Me, older, in the races at the park. A blue-red-white blur, dressed in a blue blouse and red pants, standard "uniform".
Jack, you've been stalking me!! I find myself disgusted by the thought. Then my eyes flicker over to the next photos, and I'm angry at him for not helping me here.
Me being hauled into a cop car, screaming at the boy I had just stabbed as Willow kneels a little bit to the left, holding her shoulder where the boy shot her. Me breaking free of the cop, racing to Willow, throwing her over my shoulder. Chase running after us, disappearing into the woods. Back at the orphanage, Willow getting fixed up, Chase looking tense and white-lipped. Me crying in the corner. Me crying on my bed. Me crying on Chase's shoulder. Me crying with blood running down my arm. Me crying, me crying, me crying. Chase, Willow and I at the picnic. Me, stretched out on the blue hood of Chase's new Volvo. Us leaving the orphanage, flipping the bird to the orphanage as we drive through the front gates. The tailights of the truck. The new house. Willow carrying a box towards Chase, who's unlocking the door while I grab a trunk from the back. All three of us emerging, all three of us bringing more boxes in. Then us on the roof, shooting off fireworks. Nightime, stumbling down the street.

I flick through the pages faster, scanning the pictures until I stop and stare at the last one. The Volvo's tail lights blurring as it rolls down the ravine. The book falls out of my hands and I waver on my feet. Sam's arm quickly wrap around me, and I lean back against him. He feels sturdy like a brick wall behind me as I stare in horror at the black-and-white swirled painted door Jack disappeared behind me.
Anger flushes my skin hot, and I bend over and pick up the book and break from Sam.
"Alice, stop!" He cries out, lurching at me. I jump forward, out of his human reach, and storm down the hallway. I beat my fist on the door.
"Go away.." A voice behind growls.
Hissing, I back up until my back is against the wall. Sam is on his hands and knees on the floor, staring at me in shock. I never felt this angry before. With a quick one-two step lead, I jump and slam my foot against the door. I bounce back as it crashes open before me, and Laughing Jack jumps off his bed. With a angry scream, I throw the book at his face.
"All those years!" I roar. "Of pain, suffering and godforsaken torture. Praying day and night for someone, anyone to save me! You were just watching through the windows, click-clicking away on your stupid little camera even when I went off the road into the ditch! AND NOT ONCE, NOT FUCKING ONCE DID YOU LIFT A FINGER TO HELP ME! NOT WHEN I CUT, NOT WHEN I LOST MY MIND, NOT EVEN WHEN I TRIED KILLING MYSELF! YOU JUST WATCHED! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU, AND I WILL NEVER, EVER FORGIVE YOU!!!" 
He stares at me, tears running down his face, in complete shock. "A-Alice, I--!"
"NO! I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU SAY! I HATE YOU, I LOATHE YOU, JACK!" I screech.
Sam's arms clamp around me, dragging me backwards. He keeps a steady hold as he drags me, kicking and screaming, clawing and thrashing, down the stairs and out the front door.
He only struggles breifly when he lifted a hand to ward off Eyeless Jack and BEN Drowned. Then he regains his grip and pulls me down on the front porch. One arm over my hips, the other pinning my arms, he lays beneathe me. A flash of purple light, then tentacles are binding my flailing legs and pushing back down my bent arms that are scratching at his hands. A tentacle falls against my mouth, muffling my angry promises to murder Jack and my claims of undying hatred.
"Breathe," He whispers. "Breathe with me."
He begins taking heavy, deep breaths. Within moments, I begin copying his calm breathing. Within minutes, I am calm. Within an hour, tears are running down my face. He sits up, releasing me as he does so. Instead of getting up, I twist and bury my face in his neck, breathing in his scent as I weep.