Survive him, Thrive with him.

Chapter eleven

I stop sobbing and look at him, trying to stop the tears coming down my face. The tops of my knees were wet, and he was just looking down on my casually.

It's times like this that I wish he had a face.

Was it pity? Was it annoyance? I wanted to know what he was thinking of my current state.

He bends down to look at me closer, a sense of sadness coming from him. With an outstretched hand, he helps me up and leads me away, casually walking down the street.

"Again." He breathes.

I get confused, because if he's saying that, then he means this happened before.

"I don't understand." I reply, looking at our conjoined hands. Our skin colors were so different, pure white to a fair skin color. It wasn't that far away, yet it was on a whole new level.

"We used to do this every time." Slenderman explains.

That's why I don't remember any of the in between stuff.

"Why can't I remember? Why did you take that memory?" I ask. Slenderman sighs.

"You grew up." He answers somberly.

"Does growing up stop something?" I ask.

"Innocence." He whispers.

I decide to stop pressing and just settle with the fact that Slenderman walked with me when I was a child, trapped outside by my dad. He...comforted me? Did he like the innocence of children? Is that why most people blame him for their disappearances? Maybe they are killed by Slenderman after they aren't innocent anymore?

That just might be the story. Slenderman takes children because they have innocence and aren't afraid of him. When they learn what he is and become afraid, he kills them.

I guess I never became afraid of him.

It's weird learning something your younger self that someone mind wiped from you.

"Where are we going?" I ask, looking at my feet. We take a turn and the street curves back around, in a loop.

"To your room." He replies, and suddenly we're not in the street, but in the place I called home. My bags were still alive, thankfully, and nothing seemed to be ravaged by my dad. Slenderman's tendrils start picking up things and I watch him with interest. Why he was so kind to me was a mystery, especially since I wasn't the 'innocent' child I once was.

But he didn't kill me, so I must still have innocence?

My mind starts to twist a bit before I wave it away for another time, one less stressed.

With my stuff in tentacle, Slenderman teleports us outside the house again, disappearing on his own, then coming back without my stuff. I don't question it, since he knew more about my life then I did, and take his hand when he offers it. He takes me into the backyard, to the smoldering ashes of my paintings.

"I liked them." He states.

"Thank you." I whisper, watching as a tendril pokes into the ashes and come out with the lavender rose, still alive and as fresh as ever. My eyes widen and my mouth drops as he gives it to me the second time.

"How?" I ask, but he doesn't respond. I let him be and admire the flower, such a wonderful creation.

"Thank you." I smile, scanning his face for my reward, figuring how I was going to do this. I gesture him downward and he leans towards me, giving me just enough height to kiss him gently on the cheek.

It takes him a few seconds to realize what I did, probably staring straight ahead like I imagined him to be. A few seconds later he leans back up and a long hand reaches up to touch the spot.

He probably hasn't been shown affection, just fear.

My breathing hitches in embarrassment, and I instantly feel like like I shouldn't have done that. When I go to step away, Slenderman grabs my hand again and starts to lead me away again.

Where? I was not sure.

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