Can We Learn To Love? (Slender Man x reader) [UPDATED]

School Zone, Battle Zone (Ch. 3)

Your POV

I walked around the corner of the 1100 building and towards my next, and final class. Honors English. With the most stuck up teacher I've every met. Mrs. Slime. Whoever the hell named her family lineage that either had a sense of humor or a death wish. Anyway, backstory on Slime. Happy life, happy marriage, can somehow afford to travel on a whim. Still, she 'graces' us with her presence. She could have taught at a university, but never did. What a fucking angel. Slime thinks the world revolves around her, but she doesn't always show it. Especially around her teacher's pet, Natasha. Natasha also has a similar background and they share many similarities. Supposed goody two-shoes, and somehow so privileged it hurts. Natasha is.. interesting.

Natasha and I used to be friends. We drifted apart after I realized a lot of our morals didn't align. I don't really care about what people believe in. Leave me alone and treat everyone with respect and I'm good with you. Natasha isn't respectful. Ever. She's started rumors about people. Most them ending with people getting beat close to death in the bathrooms. The rest end with people getting dumped by significant others or friends. But Natasha's got immunity thanks to her parents giant donation to the school.

And the worst part is she sits in the table in front of me.

I kept my headphones plugged in as I sat in my seat. I looked around. No one was watching me. Leaning over the edge of my seat, I grabbed my notebook of sketches. They're not amazing, but it's fun. Minutes passed, and I could hear the class having discussions about Hamlet.

'Hamlet? What's so special about him?' I thought to myself, 'He needs therapy and it didn't exist at the time. He's grieving and no one will let him.'

I rolled my head and continued to sketch.

"Miss (Y/L/N)!"

I sighed and looked up, "Yes, Mrs. Slime?"

Mrs. Slime walked over and grabbed my notebook, inspecting it as if it were a rancid sandwich.

"What. Is. This?" she spoke, gritting her teeth.

"A sketch. A notebook with sketches."

"And why is it being worked on during my class?"

"Because my work is done and no one discusses with me."

Mrs. Slime walked away with my notebook, "Miss (Y/L/N). I will not tolerate this irresponsible behavior in class!"

I scoffed, "Irresponsible? I finished my work, feel free to check your account, I submitted it last night. Now, could I please have my notebook, my property, back?"

"No. If you wish to doodle in class, you will share with the class."

"Yeah, I don't think so. Please give me my notebook back," I stood up and walked over to Mrs. Slime, extending my hand out to her.

"No. Bad children need to be punished."

"The concept of good and bad is subjective."

"Not in my classroom."

"Your classroom is yours, but your purpose is the same as all the other teachers: Teach. Nothing more, nothing less. So stick to it."

Mrs. Slime scowled, "If you continue this behavior, you will get kicked out of my classroom."

"So? I've got a high enough grade that if I transfer to another class, your class won't count against me." I grinned.

Mrs. Slime turned on the projector and went to place my notebook under it. I'm not sure what happened, but somehow, someway, I ripped my notebook out of her hands. I felt my heart race, the world felt blurry, fast.

I've never stood up for myself.

And it felt too good to stop now.

I snapped out of my trance as I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder. Crying out in pain, I grabbed at what was hurting me, desperately trying to free myself.

"You will not act like a child in my classroom!" Mrs. Slime yelled in my face.

I felt my free hand snap back and rear itself towards her arm, pulling as hard as I could.

"Let me go, you psycho!" I yelled, tears welling up as her fake nails dug into my skin. Whoever made acrylics must have known how sharp they were going to be... Must have been a madman.

I turned and punched, hitting her rib cage. That did her in. Mrs. Slime gasped in surprise and pain as she clutched her side.

"Don't you dare touch me! You have no right! I wasn't doing anything bad!" I yelled, anger boiling over, "You will never touch me again. You will not ever talk to me like that either! I am not stupid! I will not be talked down to!"

I panted, the anxiety welling up again. I could get in major trouble for this. I was going to get in major trouble for this. It didn't matter if the school board believed me or not, the case would hurt the school's reputation; nothing would actually be done. Mom would be upset with me. Mrs. Slime would make my life miserable. I whipped my head around, desperately trying to find someone to help me, tell me I was right to defend myself.

Everyone was either looking at us in shock or horror or was turned away so they wouldn't bear witness to this.

Everyone except Natasha.

Natasha was smiling at me.

I felt the blood in my veins freeze. Natasha could easily make this worse. Spread what happened faster than wildfire. Find a way to get me hurt.

Suddenly, the bell rang. I sprinted towards my bag and shoved everything into it before I ran out of the door. I pushed myself past the swarm of students, ignoring whoever was screaming my name.

'I need to get out of here!'

~*~*~*~*~*~

I slowed down as I reached the streets near my house, panting, gasping for air. My lungs burned, my stomach pleaded for an emptying, and the bag on my back never felt heavier. I dropped to my knees and slowed my breathing, trying to slow my heart.

After a few minutes, I could breath without fear of throwing up. But then, all the things that had happened flooded back into my mind.

"Why did I do that?!" I yelled.