Falling In Love With Slender Man

Chapter 26

--CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX--          

  Sage was in Elijah’s bed, curled up on her side, two blankets twisted around her. The little scene out in the woods hadn’t helped her with her training very much. Elijah had insisted that she go back to the house and rest.

            Truth was, she didn’t want to rest. She had never been more awake in her life. How could somebody sleep when all they dreamed about was death and monsters? Dreams are supposed to be an escape. Once they start to be as bad as reality, what’s the point in sleeping?

            So she sat there, eyes wide opened, trying to warm the internal chill that had taken up residence inside her. This was usually what she did at night. Everyone worried about her, so she tried to sleep, but it just never happened. So she lay in bed staring at the wall for five to six hours to make everyone happy.

            It didn’t bother her much. She didn’t mind thinking. Or, in her case, not thinking. Eventually, she’d reach a point while she was staring at the wall, where everything would just sort of fall away and all melt together. Her thoughts turned into ink on paper, which had been splashed with rainfall. They would turn illegible, even to her.

            It was better than sleeping. Nothing could touch her in that state; realties or dreams.

            So that’s what she was doing now. She was staring at the wall—her eyes never closed when she got to this state, because it wasn’t actual sleep, it was just numbness and piece. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been laying there, but she was idly aware of the fact the sun had shifted from high in the sky and was now almost completely gone.

            Once dusk had wholly fallen away, the door cracked open.

            “Sage?” a husky voice whispered into the darkness. It was Elijah.

            She contemplated just ignoring him, pretending she was sleeping. But he walked around and saw her face. His eyes seemed to have widened when he looked at the dead stare. It was like she was looking through him, like he wasn’t even there. It was just that damn wall she always stared at.

            “Hey, are you okay?”

            She cursed him to herself for “waking” her up from her “sleep”. She just nodded at him.

            He got down on his knees and grabbed at her hand. “Hey. Look at me. Please.”

            She shifted those hollow green eyes at Elijah. She just really wasn’t feeling like talking. For some reason, she was gripped tightly with depression. This happened often. She’d just get really depressed, without even consciously thinking about anything that depressed her. Now was one of those times.

            She tired her best to hide it from others, but Elijah had just come at a wrong time.

            “Were you even sleeping?” he questioned.

            “On and off,” she bluffed lightly. No need to worry him.

            “Liar,” he stated, calling her out. “You don’t ever sleep. You think I don’t ever check on you? I notice you in here, staring at that wall. Every night. When was the last time you slept?”

            She shrugged. Her shoulders had gotten a lot bonier, due to not eating as much as she should and training too hard. Her shoulder blades protruded in an ugly manner out of her back. Elijah laid a hand on them, making her grimace. She didn’t want anybody touching her. She looked so hideous, just from a past week and a couple of days of stress. What would she look like in a month? Two months?
            “Don’t touch me,” she said as she dodged his warm hand.

            “Hey,” he said in a stern voice, catching her face between two hands. Her cheekbones cut into his palms.

            “What?” she said, not meeting his cool gray eyes.

            He sighed, almost in defeat. “I’ve been trying to pretend that everything’s alright with you. But it’s not. You aren’t eating. You aren’t sleeping. I get that things have been like hell for you, but it’s not healthy. You don’t want to die too, do you?” he asked in this voice that made her think of her little brother.

            He always used to toddle around—he’d only been five, and he still had a slight waddle to the way he walked—and stand up on his tiptoes to glance at her while she was in her bed when she was sick. He’d glance at the plate their mother had left on her bedside table and see she hadn’t touched it. He’d look at her with the biggest, most innocent eyes you would ever see, and ask her in the most serious voice, “Are you gon’ die? ‘Cuz ya hav ta eat, sissy. I don’t wantcha ta die!” He always had this slight lisp that rang out when he said “sissy”.

            A tear sprang up behind her eye, and she forced it back. “Maybe I do,” she finally said to Elijah.

            “You can’t.”

            “And why not?”

            He looked up to meet her eye. “Because I don’t want you to.” His express was dead serious.

            She flinched. I don’t wantcha ta die! All she could think of was Jakob.

            And staring at Elijah, she noticed a little bit of her brother in him. And then she did something she hadn’t expected she would do—she bent down from the bed, to reach where he was kneeling on the floor, and smothered his mouth with a kiss.

            He gasped, and she thought she did too, though she couldn’t exactly remember. He got up and lay in the bed with her quickly, without removing his mouth from hers.

            He stroked her hair and his lips were like reassuring whispers on her mouth. He seemed to be an expert at kissing. She assumed he had lots of practice. His lips didn’t move as hurriedly as Ash’s had, but more like he was trying to draw out suspense while making her feel better at first.

            Eventually, he was hovering above her, his hands running up and down her sides, making her shiver. It felt right, but she still felt this annoying pang in her heart that said it was all wrong. She shoved it aside though.

            He was trailing kisses down her neck now, and tugging at the waistband of her sweat pants. She let him yank the sweats so they were down around her knees, and then he all together took them off.

             He stopped for a second, both of them gasping slightly for breath. “What do you want?” he whispered.

            She didn’t say anything; she just lifted her hands above her head, signaling he could do whatever he wanted. He smiled slightly and tugged off her shirt. This was just the distraction she needed.