Survive him, Thrive with him.

Chapter twelve

Even in sleep I knew something was off.

Maybe it was the oddly warm thing beneath me, or the sounds of nature that surrounded me.

Maybe that I didn't recognize the sounds around me, or the moving thing beneath me as I'm lifted up and taken around.

I wake up eventually, rousing myself up as something sets me down in the fetal position. When I open my eyes I see the bushes outside my house, and the morning sky shining down on me. Slenderman wasn't nearby, but I could feel him watching me from somewhere.

Like always.

The front door bursts open and my smoking father walks out, eyes blazing with anger.

"How did you get inside?!" He roars angrily. I scramble to my feet and look around nervously.

"Where is your stuff?!" He asks, stepping toward me.

"I don't know." I reply.

"Yes you do! Don't lie to me!" He yells.

"I don't know where it is." I reply more stubbornly. Before I let him reply again, I spin around and start fast walking towards the street. We only had one car, so driving would be useless, plus my phone was in my bag, and my bags were where ever Slenderman put them.

I hear his fast footsteps behind me and walk even faster, soon in a full sprint as the anger rolled off my father in waves, shocking my core at how upset he was. This level of rage was hard to reach for anyone without possible combustion, but that's my dad for you.

His anger scared me.

I sprint down the street as fast as my legs can take me, hearing my dad behind me, loosing control the longer I was away from his clenched fist. I run past Jacob's house, loosing steam with my lack of physical exercise. I was slowing down, getting closer to my attacker. I felt like there was no escape, like I wasn't going to win.

So I scream.

As I dash down the street I scream as loud as my breathless lungs will allow, making people look out their windows. A husband bolts out of his house and chases after us, a few other random men and guys my age restraining my dad, relentlessly fighting against them and punching one in the face. Two older men block him from me and a woman dashes out to ask me who I am. I bend on my knees to catch me back as my father yells at the men holding onto him, my lungs fighting to catch air after the adrenaline rush wears off. I can barely speak as the woman asks what happened, and already a few police cars are showing up.

This is what I've always wanted, for him to be caught.

But it doesn't feel right, I feel like he had to experience the same fear and pain that he brought me through.

Deep inside, I knew punishing him was wrong, and deep inside I knew that he wasn't innocent enough to be able to feel things like that anyways without probably enjoying it.

That son of a bitch.

By the time I catch my breath, several witnesses were being questioned before I could get into the crowd, all eyes on me as soon as I stepped into the middle of everything. This was it, this was the time for the truth.

"This man is my father..."

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