𝐓𝐢𝐜𝐜𝐢 𝐓𝐨𝐛𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫: 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐭

Bleed Her Dry: Sister Seldom

The water in the shower was nearly scalding, just the way Y/N likes it to be. She thought a shower would be good for her after work. She left work early tonight, arriving back at her house around 4AM, thankfully granted leave. She couldn't tough it out at the hospital any longer.

The extreme exhaustion she was experiencing was too much to bear. In the last 4 days or so, she's probably slept only a couple hours— if she's lucky. That's all thanks to the coke she rapidly blew through. One line turned into that entire bag, 2 grams gone like it was simply sugar. Coming down off of coke can be pretty ugly but she's doing alright so far. Withdrawing often looks like fatigue, increased sadness and anxiety and lack of concentration; all things Y/N had been suffering from tonight at work.

She started to become paranoid that she looked suspicious, especially with the shakes caused by the comedown off of the drug. Her coworker even asked if she was alright. She didn't realize how she looked at the time; she was sitting at her desk, her wide eyes glazed over with dissociation and bitting her nails, trembling a little.

Her scatterbrain was all over the place, she couldn't focus and her reactions were slowed slightly. She wasn't doing her job correctly and she needed to go home.

Maybe it's the drugs she's been doing for a few days straight but her anxiety levels are through the roof. She's had nothing but worries of the Slenderman plaguing her mind. Intrusive thoughts of gore and horror appear suddenly, unsettling Y/N deeply.

Along with the irrational paranoia, she's still experiencing sadness from the loss of Sally. Her mental health is plummeting to its doom, bound to hit rock bottom very soon if she doesn't get it together.

The shower definitely helped decreased her drug-induced chills and relaxes her enough to rest finally. She exits the bathroom and gets dressed in her room, slipping on a flowy dress to sleep in. She finally lies down, resting her eyes and replaying the days events over and over again in her mind.

Sally pops into her mind abruptly as if she just entered the room. Y/N smiles, she feels really at peace. Just as her eyes droop shut, she hears a noise downstairs, sounding like it came from the backdoor in the kitchen.

It's nothing, she tells herself. He's here.

Sally's little voice giggles as if she's right next to Y/N. Her heart drops. These drugs are really making her crazy, now she's hallucinating? No, you're not!

Y/N can feel the warmth of Sally's spirit to her right. It's familiar and she knows her ghost is here for a reason. She's warning her of something, but what?

"Who's here?" She whispers, wondering if she'll get a response back.

Hide, Y/N. Hurry!

Even in her childish tone, Y/N can hear the reminisce of panic. She sits up in bed and listens closely. She hears footsteps on the lower level of the house, the hardwood creaking under heavy boots. A man. The intruder passes through the house, she hears a couple doors open and shut as if he's snooping around.

He slowly begins climbing the steps and she hears muffled singing from an obviously drunken man. It's a broken hearted love song. Something about the singing unnerves her even more. The voice is smooth but deep and melodic, pausing in places leaving large gaps of silence. The footsteps stop at the top of the stairs and Y/N's foggy mind finally pieces everything together. She must hide. She should try to escape instead. There's no time to leave the house, he's in the hall. The closet!

Y/N locks her bedroom door and creeps over to the closet, silently sliding the doors apart and stepping in. It's fairly large and spacious, a partial walk-in. She crouches down on the floor, listening. She feels Sally's presence again really strongly to her right. The woman is not afraid. Humans only fear ghosts when they are mal-intended. The sensation of fear comes naturally as a method of protection and warning to leave the presence of what is causing that frightfulness.