Falling In Love With Slender Man

Chapter 4

(Okaaaaay! This story was in very high demand, so I promised I would update this first. I apologize for how  long it took me to finally get around to writing. School just started and I've been swamped with homework. I've also been going through a really messy breakup and just havent been up for doing this. But I'm getting more free time and getting over that guy, so I'm going to write more, I promise! So here's the much anticipated chapter four of Falling in Love with Slender Man.) 

--CHAPTER FOUR-- 

                 Sage stood under the steaming water of the shower. She scrubbed furiously at her exposed flesh and greasy hair. She willed her brain to remember something, anything from the past.

            The last memory she had was of standing in a field that appeared to be on a high school campus. A man stood in front of her, wearing a red football jersey with the number 34 written on it in white lettering. He had caramel colored hair that fell slightly into his wide chocolate colored eyes. He wore a pleading expression that seemed to be mixed with guilt.

            In the memory Sage could feel tears streaming down her cheeks, cutting a thick path in her skillfully applied makeup. She was shaking her head as the attractive boy kept trying to tell her something. She couldn’t recall the boy’s name or what he was saying to her though.

            She whipped her head back and forth, praying that a hint would come to her. Anything! She needed to know how she got here. She needed to know what had happened in the time she had lost.

            Had she come here willingly? Had she been tricked? Kidnapped? Or had he actually saved her from something?

            She moved her hand to turn the little lever and stop the torrent of rushing water. Her hand reached the handle and she pulled back from the intense heat that it held. A flash came to her.

            Burning. Fire. Smoke. Heat.

            Just as quickly as it had come on it was gone. She felt dizzy from the forcefulness of the memory. Why had there been a fire? Had this man saved her from her burning house?

            She could recall the elegant two-story home she lived in. The delicate curve of the large staircase. The hardwood floors, wearing out in the middles from years of use. The cherry woodworking.

             She ran to the sink and found a brush that looked about a century old. It had a graceful handle of gold and the bristles were sturdy, but yellowing with age. She ran it through her long hair, surprised by how easily it worked out the tangles.

            She secured her hair back with a rubber band she had found in a tiny dish near the soap dispenser. She had no makeup at hand so she would just have to go natural.

            Just as she was turning to grab her clothes the door was thrown open. She let out a shriek and held the towel closer to her lean frame.

            “What are you doing?” she yelped as Ash entered the small room.

            A wicked smile spread across his pale features. “It was taking you a while. I wanted to assure myself you were alright.”

            She glowered at him. “I’m fine. Now get out.”

            He chortled as he gently shut the door. Sage let out a frustrated little huff and set back to dress herself.

            She had found a chest of drawers, which held various clothing items in just her size. She had picked out a pair of dark wash jeans and a light, cream-colored sweater. If she hadn’t lost too much time, then it would be sometime in the early fall and sweaters would be appropriate.

            She left the room and slammed the door. Ash sat on the bed, watching her.

            “Oh, come on now. Don’t be mad at me. I was just worried about you.”

            He stopped talking as she cut him with a glare. He raised his hands, as if to show he had no weapons.

            “I want to go home,” Sage said, turning to face him full on.

            He shook his head. “Dearest Sage, you can not go home. Your home is gone.”

            Her eyes widened at his words. “What do you mean it’s ‘gone’?” she demanded.

            She shrugged. “No longer there. Absent. Irrecoverable.”

            “I know what gone means!” she yelled. “I meant what happened to it?”

            Ash just stared at her. Finally her responded, “It is unimportant.”

            She laughed without humor. “It’s important to me. Where’s my family?”

            Sage could recall a pair of loving parents, both with fair hair and skin. Her mother looking almost exactly like her. Her father being tall and broad, but the most comforting man Sage had ever known. There was a brother too, one who was younger than her…. But whether they had a close relationship she couldn’t remember.

            “They’re gone as well.” An almost pained look crossed his face.

            “What?” she whispered.

            “Along with your home, your family can not be brought back,” he stated coolly.

            “Why not?” she mustered up the energy to yell at him. “What happened? What happened to them?” She could feel she was not far from tears.

            “They were murdered.”

            “By who?”

            He shook his head. “I do not know. Someone heartless.”

            He took in her newly broken expression. A tear moved down her now red cheek. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and comfort her. But why?

            He should not feel bad for her. He was the reason for her unhappiness. He had purposely caused her this discomfort. Why did he want to take away this one humans pain? He hadn’t wanted to do such a thing in so very long…

            “I want to see it,” she told him in a level voice, catching his attention again.

            “See what?” he asked, confused.

            “My old home.” Her cold green eyes looked right at him, daring him.

            He stood. “Fine. I shall take you. But I warn you, you will not be pleased.”