Slender

Chapter 8

Continuing from Chapter 6-

The moment his skin touched mine I froze. Slenderman's skin was cold, very cold, cold enough to make you want to move away. I'm sure he didn't know this yet, it was oddly comforting. I wish I had realized how peaceful that moment was until it was shattered as the sound of something breaking comes from downstairs. This causes me to flinch away from him. I clench on to my arm with one hand in fear, Slenderman's stare locked onto me. An utterly bitter and heartrending fight starts to commence. My parents words echo throughout the house, now stabbing at my soul as always. I lower my head not wanting to think too much.

The silence that grew in the room did not compare to the yelling that rotted downstairs. Slender was slumping in front of me.

"Y-you should leave... you have no idea how bad these fights can get." I advise. "I mean, you can stay just-... no one should have to listen to their fights." My mind starts to trail off recalling some of the really bad ones. Slenderman gets off the bed and starts walking toward somewhere in my room. Perhaps he's leaving? Truthfully I don't want him to leave at all. Feeling the bed move under me again I look over and see Slenderman laying down on the pillow next to me; crossing his legs and intertwining his fingers on his stomach. My eyes widen. "What are you doing?"

"I'm not just going to leave you here to suffer." I was surprised, this was the last thing I'd expect to come out of him but, I was really happy. Readjusting myself, I lay next to him taking a deep breath. I can't help but grin just a little, it's nice to think were both looking up at the same ceiling right now. I wipe away the little tears that started forming under my eyes. "Are you okay?" He notices.

"Ya." I smile but this smile disappeared the moment their yelling suddenly got louder.

We're both looking up at the same ceiling, hearing the same words and perhaps, are we both feeling the same things too? No, there's no way, since what I'm feeling is probably something he hasn't felt in a long time. Fear. What is the kind of fear that I have during these fights? What am I so afraid of when they argue like this? Almost starting to doze off I realize that this was the first time that I've felt so calm near him. Usually my heart rate is thumping in my chest like crazy; anxious and just plain down scared. I turn my head just a little to get a better view of him. His profile was smooth. Tilting his head towards me I flinch back, now feeling his stare on me.

"Are you going to sleep?" He asks, surprising me again with his odd concerns.

"I don't think I could ever sleep through one of their fights..." He turns his head back to the ceiling. I wonder what's going through his mind right now. I couldn't take a guess even if I tried. I feel my hand itch at the idea of holding his. But of course that was just another stupid teenage thought. Slenderman is no teenage boy who I can cuddle and talk openly to after all. No, Slenderman isn't even close to that... Slenderman is a murderer. And will there never come a day when I will know the reason for it? I give out a breath and turn on my side, the opposite direction to him. Leaving my thoughts Slenderman and I spend the next hour in udder silence, listening to the wreck downstairs. Once in a while I'd get an empty feeling as though he had left only to feel his presence return moments later. Luckily, soon enough the fight eventually came to a halt. I feel a small urge to say something. Shutting my eyes tightly I curl up preparing myself for the consequence as I give into the urge.

"Do..." I hear him move his head under my pillow. "Do you... care about me, Slender?" I'm terrified of him saying something like: "You've got to be kidding me, right?" or plain down "No." or "Never." If it's something like that then, I don't want to know the answer. "Never mind, forget I said anything-"

"I do."

I open my eyes wide.

"...You, do?"

"Yeah." ...Is this why...? Is this why he won't kill us? Because of me? That's when I felt Slenderman's hand reach out towards me. Getting goosebumps I feel a slight pull on my head and hear the rubbing of my hair between two fingers. He was caressing my hair very gently.

"Are you scared of me?" He asks.

"N- No." I answer quickly, partly lying. How could I ever not be just a little terrified of someone like him.

"Then look at me." He says making me realize that I had been avoiding his stare all day. Even now... I'm cowardly turned away from him. In the end, my fear has been offending him, but how could I not? Rotating myself completely around as he lets go of my hair, I look over at his pale non-existent face that I found so mesmerizing. He can see me right now, can't he? I can never truly tell. Some small moments pass before I find something I want to ask.

"...What happened to your face?"

"That's a long story." he says in an almost playful tone. "...Go to sleep." He orders me slowly getting of the bed.

"Are you leaving?" I ask as I sit up.

"Yeah." He answers in his normal tone while fixing his tie. Turning to me he say slowly: "...Goodnight." But, this time in a disappointed tone. Does he not want to leave either?

"Night." I say with my head tilted showing my uncertainty of him leaving. But even with uncertainty and disappointment in the air, he still left. I take my shoes and jacket off and drop them onto the ground. Giving out a sigh for the night I finally let myself sleep only to wake up incredibly early in the morning to more loud arguing.

I hold my hands over my ears desperately to block out the sound, but it's no use. The only place I can go where I can escape the fight is in Slenderman's forest. Instead I grab my sketch book, a sharpened pencil and start sketching. It's hard to look at the bright side of things when those two are constantly letting out all their anger on each other. Almost a half an hour passes until I realize that I was drawing Slenderman and me. How embarrassing... I could never let him see this. Closing the book I slide it and the pencil under my bed.

Taking a breath I look over at the paintings across my room. How could something like him exist? Plugging in my earphones I listen to the first song that plays, unjudging and uncaring of whether I like it all that much or not anymore. How does Slenderman see me? Some girl... living in his forest without permission. I remember his response to my question. Someone... he cares about. But, why care about me? I really should be grateful, huh? I'm not just grateful but I'm lucky... that I'm me.

And for that moment did I for once look at myself as worth something. All my life I've tried to think of my purpose in the world. There's no one's lives I've effected other than my parents. For the longest time I thought that, that was the reason for my existants. To bring happiness into their lives, but truthfully, I haven't done anything. They still hate each other, with or without me. Even at school, not a soul has ever taken time to even look at me.

Maybe... was I born for Slenderman? To bring 'happiness' into his life? That'd be nice huh... to think your purpose was all for another. And was he born for me? I snort a laugh at this thought only to think seriously of it right after. For me... But what was all the fighting for? Oh, I get it. This way, in this life where I have nothing, will I be thankful for anything. Anything... as in Slenderman.

When I think about it, he's the best thing that's ever happened to me... Isn't he? Even with the scratches and bruises, he's given me a reason to run. Even with sleeping in a dark, cold forest, he's given me a reason not to care. While listening to the screams of someone's coming death, he's given me a reason to be grateful. And the feeling to hurt someone because they deserved it, as well as to plead for a life to be saved, he's given me a reason to fight for what's right.

Yet he's the only person that's ever come in my life and actually opened my eyes to the world and made me feel something other than fear and sadness.