Slender

CHAPTER FOUR

Warwick, Rhode Island

Saturday, August 14th, 3:45

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I scream and instinctively run away to the other side of the room as Slenderman's tentacles miss me by inches. My heart pounds as I think of what to do.

"Iris, darling..." Slenderman whispers in my head.

"Get away from me!" I yell as loud as I can, and throw open the window. "Leave me alone!" I climb through the window, and tumble onto the ground clumsily. So much for my dramatic escape.

Bruises cover my body as I groan and scramble to my feet. I run towards Alex's old house, looking over my shoulder occasionally. Her house was much smaller than mine, and not very far away. I jiggle the doorknob and discover it was locked.

"Shit, shit, shit," I mumble to myself as I run around the house frantically for any open windows or something. I luckily find one near Alex's old room, and climb through. I shut and lock the window behind me. I flip on the lights and walk into the main room. I proceed to lock all the doors and windows shut, hoping that it would keep Slenderman out.

This place is full of bad memories. Alex was my best friend back when I still lived here, and she meant the world to me. She lived here with her four older sisters and one younger brother. Her brother died when he was only two, and Alex was six. When we both turned six, it seemed like our lives began to flip upside down. My Dad had left me, and Alex's toddler brother died of pneumonia. Alex barely talked to anyone after that, which were the last days of her life. The last words she ever said to me were:

"I love you,"

She had randomly said that out of the blue one day when we were playing Barbies in my room. I'll never forget that day. After that, she hugged me and left.

I shudder at all the memories flooding back. I had tried to flush them and all the emotions down the drain by moving away to Connecticut, but even then I found myself losing sleep at night thinking about them.

I sit on the cold wooden floor in Alex's old room for a while, thinking about my past. All her furniture is gone. All that's left is a old plush cushion behind the drapes, probably forgotten when her family moved out. I pull the drapes shut and firmly close the door. I curl up next to the window and close my eyes tightly.

Have you ever tried to not think about something? It's next to impossible. Like, if you tell yourself, "don't think about the color red,", I would bet you anything that you would end up thinking about red somehow.

I desperately try to keep my head clear of any thoughts about slenderman, pale skin, blood, Alex, or my family.

I curl up into a ball, trying to keep warm as I fall into a dreamless sleep.