Fast Changes (Slenderman x reader) COMPLETED

The woods

"Wake up, bitch!" Y/n's dad yelled. Her eyes snapped open at the sound of the horrific man's voice that unfortunately happened to be her father's.
"Yes sir," Y/n yelled back. She hopped out of bed and went to her closet, and blindly pulled clothes off of the rack. Today she was wearing skinny jeans and a grey shirt that said 'nevertheless, she persisted'. She slipped on her black hoodie and black converse, and lastly grabbed her bag and began to walk downstairs.

Y/N's p.o.v:

I walked downstairs to my parents. My mom was there looking more beat than yesterday. "Hey mom" I greeted.

My mom looked at me sweetly "hello, angel." My mom cared for me but she gets beat by my 'dad' ... My real dad died during a deployment to Iraq, the last words I heard him tell me was "I love you. Please stay safe for me."

My dad swaggered into the room, and slammed the fridge door shut when he saw me opening it, "we don't have enough for you," he snarled. I sighed, and walked to the woods. I walked past my back yard. These woods were my sanctuary, like the band hall at school. I looked at the noose that hung from the old oak tree. It was a last resort kind of scenario, where if my mom died— I would hang myself. No way in hell would I live with that demon of a father.

I also get beat by him, but my mom has it worse than me, and I know she wouldn't ever want me suffering through the same torture she has.

I passed the meadow and went to my stump that I marked with an eighth note, sat down, and played a song on my phone. I was lucky enough to even keep my phone, if the man living in my house knew that I had it, he take it and start raiding my room for other things of sentimental value. I sat lost in my mind, the sound of my music shunning out the noises of the wilderness that surrounded me.

Slenderman's P.O.V:

I was walking through the woods when I sensed a mortal presence, followed by the faint sound of a melody. Why were they playing it so loud, don't they know what lies in this forest? I trudged my lanky body further into the woods. As I trekked on, I discovered the one playing the sound was a young girl, no older than 19 or 20, with a mess of unkempt (h/c) hair and dull (e/c) eyes. She wasn't searching for the eight papers scattered within the trees, but merely basking in the musty air around her.

This was different.

—Edited by Typhorius