The Slender Man Read online

  Adam, already out of breath, steps into the bus panting and hands Mr. Mario the permission slip, followed by Denise who didn't run quite as far as Adam did. Mr. Mario looks at me and gives me a wink and a nod before closing the door and driving off.

  “That's... creepy,” Shana says from behind me when the bus is far down the road.

  “What is?” I ask.

  “He winked at you. He doesn't even know you,” she says.

  “Well maybe he's just being nice,” I shrug, but even I have my suspicions, though so far he hasn't tried anything so I give him the benefit of the doubt.

  “Come on,” I say, beckoning Shana to follow me as I take off. I always leave the neighborhood in a slow jog before hitting the tree line. Once we are at the stop sign that marks the three-way intersection before the woods, I stop and do twenty jumping-jacks, and a quick stretch. I don't bother stretching my arms, but I do stretch my legs and hips, and I even throw in some ankle rotations. The woodland path I run on every week isn't necessarily treacherous, but I have tripped a few times on a tree root or sudden slope, so I don't want to twist my ankle by accident.

  When we are ready, I run down the street and into the forest, with Shana close behind. I go straight in for about a quarter-mile before I reach a tall tree. The tree isn't at all different from the others, but I recognize it well because it marks my first turn. Around the left of the tree is a slight incline. It seems like a longer stretch than it really is, but that's because my legs always burn going uphill. Once we reach the next flat stretch I make another right and head along a seemingly straight path with the occasional turn that ends up forming a subtle semi-circle at the end, and the end of that circle is my mental mile-and-a-half marker.

  “Oh Alyssa!” pants Shana. I turn to see Shana catch up to my side.

  “I left my phone at your house... did you bring yours?” she asks.

  “Yeah,” I answer without even needing to check.

  “Okay good,” she says. Shana is a little paranoid about trips through the woods or even leaving her house alone, so being without a phone makes her feel even more insecure. We continue along the woodland path that I've traversed at least a hundred times by now.

  We reach the halfway point, a small clearing in the woods that leads to an actual paved trail, shaped at a right angle. If we go left on the trail we end up in the school district, a place we don't want to so much as think about until Monday, and the right way leads to a small park. This point means it's time to turn around, because the loop will end up being over three miles. We stop and catch our breath. Shana hunches over from weariness. She does exercise, but she's not so used to running.

  “Did you bring any water?” she asks. I pull out the transparent blue water bottle I brought, down half of it, and then hand the rest to Shana, who finishes it off.

  While she's drinking I open my phone to look at the time. It's eight after seven in the morning.

  “When did Mr. Mario reach our bus stop?” I ask.

  “Uh ten till?” she says.

  “So then eighteen minutes, give or take. Not so bad,” I say.

  “Don't you have an actual timer on that thing?” she asks. I shake my head glumly. I run in place, shaking my arms for a few seconds before Shana follows suit. We are about to return the way we came when my phone rings. I answer it. It's my mom and she's speaking so hastily that I can barely hear her.

  “Where are you? Why aren’t you home!?” she asks, almost frantic.

  “We're out jogging, Mom. What's wrong?” I ask, worried.

  “You need to come back now!” she shouts.

  “What's wrong?” I repeat, getting frustrated.

  “There was an accident. Your father and I can't wait for you. We're going to the hospital in Andrews,” she says.

  “An accident? With what, the bus?” I ask. “Yes your brother, come home now.” “Wait, Mom!” I shout, but she has already hung up.

  “What's wrong?” Shana asks.

  “There was an accident with my brother. They say they’re going to the hospital,” I say.

  “Oh my god! Is Denise okay?” she asks.

  “I don't know she didn’t say, but we have to go,” I say, taking off. I run back, with Shana right behind me, adrenaline pushing me forward. My memory guides me through, but my mind is going off in all sorts of directions. Did the bus crash? How badly is he hurt? What if he's dying? What if he's dead now? I keep thinking to myself. My eyes get watery and my heart races at those thoughts. It seems like much more than eighteen minutes to make the return to my house, but my lack of breath and numbing legs tell me it was much less.

  “Alyssa!” I hear. I turn and see Shana way back, just emerging from the woods. She catches up and we run inside. As soon as I'm inside, I hear her phone going off. Shana rushes upstairs past me to answer it. I walk upstairs and wait a few minutes while Shana talks to her mother. She's speaking too quietly for me to hear what she's saying. After the phone call, Shana comes and speaks to me.

  “What happened?” I ask.

  “The bus went off the road, and crashed into the Valley River” she says, looking at the floor.

  “How bad is it?” I ask. She shakes her head.

  “They said that some of the kids were killed, and others are hurt, and have been rushed to the hospital,” she continues.

  I grab her hands and stare into her face.

  “Who? Who did they take to the hospital?” I asked fiercely. I'm not just worried for her, but for Adam as well. My parents didn't say whether or not he was okay, just that they were going to the hospital. She looks up at me.

  “I don't know, they haven't released names,” she answers.

  “Well then there's still hope. Denise and Adam could be at the hospital,” I say, trying to reassure both her and myself. She looks at me and shakes her head.

  “But Denise can't swim,” she says softly, and leans forward onto me. I hold her to my chest while she cries. Adam can't swim well either though. We've been to lakes before but he’s always been heavily supervised. He wouldn't be able to swim out of a bus. Then again, most parts of the Valley River you can walk through, but if it ran into the deeper section. Or if the bus were on its side letting it fill with water…

  My heart sinks at the thought, but before I give up, my phone rings again.

  “Are you home yet?” Mom asks. “Yeah, yeah. What about Adam?” I ask.

  “Adam's at the hospital,” she says. “Is he okay?” I ask, relieved.

  “No, we don't know if he'll make it, but you need to come down here,” she says. Shana can hear the conversation too.

  “And... Denise?” she asks. “Who is that? Shana?” Mom asks.

  “Yes is Denise at the hospital too?” I ask for her.

  “We don't know. Her parents haven't arrived yet, and they only told us when we got here that Adam arrived. He's in surgery,” she says.

  “Surgery? I thought it fell in the water,” I say. “The water isn’t too deep, so most of the damage was from the crash. Some kids did drown but others were still alive,” she explains.

  “You need to come. Your brother needs you,” Mom continues.

  “How do I get there?” I ask. Andrews must be almost twenty minutes away, by car.

  “Sheriff Fraser says he's sending someone to pick you two up. Just wait at home,” she says.

  “Okay Mom,” I say, trying to convince myself that Adam will be okay.

  “Love you,” she says, before hanging up. I put the phone down and release Shana. She lies back against the wall and slumps into a sitting position on the floor, almost unblinking. “Shana, she might be okay. Chances are they were sitting next to each other, and if Adam is still alive then Denise should-”

  “Just stop,” she interrupts. “I don't want to think about it,” she says, her voice melding into a sob. She's hyperventilating and squeezing her eyes shut now, trying to hold back tears. It's clear she isn't convinced that her sister made it, and now she's trying to force the though
t out of her head.

  “Let's hope for a miracle,” I say, more to her than myself.

  I go into my room and look at how disheveled I look already. My skin is normally pretty tan from being outside a lot, but the color is drained from my face and I’m a ghostly pale white right now. I can even see residue from my sweat mixing with tears around my eyes

  “That cop needs to hurry,” I say to myself. The tension is eating away at me and the helplessness, the fact that there's nothing I can do until I get to the hospital gives me a headache. Maybe I should try Shana's method? I think. I look around the room, trying to find something to keep my mind on other than the fate of my brother, and find Shana’s street clothes lying on my bed. I should change out of these sweaty clothes, I think. I fumble around my drawers picking up a blue T-shirt, not even bothering to look and see what image is on it, and some jeans. It would be ideal to shower off before getting into clean clothes, but I don't think I have that kind of time, which is a good thing. After changing (tossing my exercise clothes onto the floor), I take my hair out of the ponytail, and try brushing it. My movements are jittery, making it more difficult than it should be to simply smooth my hair out. I hear a knock on the door which makes me jump. I hurry, grab my shoes and purse, and rush downstairs. Shana is already at the door speaking to the officer there.

  “Ms. Redwood?” asks the man grimly when he sees me come down.

  “Yes?” I say, approaching him. He's young for a cop, and also pretty scrawny. He has short dirty blonde hair, and his eyes are covered by shades. He’s got some cuts on his face, so it looks like he shaved in a hurry today. He sticks his hand out.

  “I'm Deputy Yew, call me Terrence. I'm here to take you to your family,” he introduces. I shake his hand and nod, not sure what to say but

  “Thank you.”

  “Follow me ladies,” he says, and Shana and I get into the back of his police cruiser. I put my shoes on during the ride and slowly tie the laces. I almost don’t have the energy to rise back up, until Shana reaches for my hand and I sit back up, letting her rest her head on me. Deputy Yew doesn't speak much during the ride, but I can tell he's speeding, rushing us to the hospital, so it must be that he's focusing on the road. I look over at Shana, staring absentmindedly at the back of the front seat, and can tell she's still taking the news worse than I am.

  “It'll be okay,” I say, hoping I’m not lying.

  3: The Hospital

  The minute hand hits twelve, causing the small hand to move up just another notch. It’s nine in the morning now. The accident happened around two hours ago, and I've been waiting in the hospital with no news other than the fact that Adam is one of the survivors. He is one of four people recovered alive from the scene. The other three are Shana's sister, the driver Mr. Mario, and a boy named Kenny Larch. All of them were badly injured and are being taken care of, but the doctors don't appear too certain that they'll all make it. I look around the room. We are in an alcove in the hallway just outside the intensive care ward. The families that the bad news was given to are outside or have gone already. The hospital staff gave us chairs from the cafeteria to sit in while we wait.

  To my left is my family, all looking just as worried as me. On the other side of the hall is Shana's family, and next to them are the Larch's. Jason Larch, their oldest son, goes to our school. He's a year older than me, but still in my grade, and he's pretty big for his age. No one really likes him though. I won't say he's a bully, but he's very rude to everyone. He is half white, half Hispanic, but he pretends he's fully Hispanic. He has a badly shaped half-grown moustache that he refuses to shave even though it won't grow enough to form a full one.

  He is leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over the long red sports jersey that I don't think he ever takes off, and some black cut-off shorts. He's staring at the ground angrily, and looks like the slightest tick will set him off. His father Martin is standing next to him, but with a more worried look than angry, unlike his son, and next to him is his wife Rita. Despite all of the people in the hallway, the room is very quiet, and I can actually faintly hear the wall clock ticking.

  I hear voices coming from the intensive care ward and my eyes lighten up as one of the doctors emerges. He's speaking with Sheriff Fraser.

  “...So there were no other parties involved in the crash? He just ran off the side of the road?” asks the sheriff.

  “Sir, I really don't know, all I can say is that he doesn't appear to be under the influence of any drugs or alcohol. We'll be able to tell you more when he wakes up, but for now we have to see to the other patients,” says the doctor before turning and reentering the ward.

  Sheriff Fraser stands in the doorway, hands on his belt, staring at the ground as if he is thinking about something. Is he looking for a culprit? Someone he can arrest? The sheriff is a little overweight, and has thinning black hair. His khaki uniform pants are wet at the bottom, so he must have actually gone to the crash site. “Did they say who's responsible?” asks Rita Larch. The sheriff shakes his head, “Looks like Douglas just ran off the bridge. Might have swerved to avoid a deer or something,” answers the sheriff in his deep voice.

  You'd think by his voice he'd have a moustache or beard, but he's cleanly shaven, unlike all of the other men in the room. It seems that the sheriff is the only person that looks fully kempt aside from the water on his pants. Mom is still in her pajamas and it even looks like Dad just threw on yesterday's clothes, and it's a similar situation with the Hawthorns.

  “So arrest him. He was driving irresponsibly! He doesn't deserve medical treatment!” says Rita. She's known for causing ruckus's over little things, so I can only imagine the kind of hell she'll raise over this.

  “Ma'am I can't do that,” says the sheriff, raising his hand as if to calm her.

  “Then what good are you? You arrest my son for 'loitering', but you won't even arrest the man who killed a dozen children?” she yells. “Ma'am I'm here to get the facts. I need to make sure that there was no hit and run-”

  “Of course there was no hit and run! He doesn’t know how to steer a bus. He's too dumb to-”

  “Ma'am, don't interrupt me. Douglas has been a bus driver here for eight-”

  “Don't interrupt my mom!” roars Jason, as he angrily approaches the sheriff. The sheriff may be out-of-shape, but he's way over six feet tall, and puts even taller kids like Jason to shame, so it's weird to see the threatening gaze Jason's giving him.

  Deputy Yew steps in and interrupts the bickering to speak to the sheriff. I can't hear what they are saying, but I half suspect that his goal is to pull the sheriff out of that sticky situation rather than inform him of anything important. When the scene is over, I look back at the clock. Only another seven minutes has passed. I look at the ground, wondering how long the surgery will take when I hear footsteps and see a shadow approach. I look back up and see a female doctor with her face mask pulled down to her chin. She has a certain subtle smile that can only mean one thing, and I lighten up when I see it.

  “Redwood family? I’m Doctor Spruce,” she introduces.

  “Our son? Is he okay?” Mom asks.

  “He lost a lot of blood in the crash, got a lot of water in his lungs, and his left arm is broken, but he's stable. We're going to have to keep him for a couple days, but it looks like he'll make it,” explains the doctor.

  It takes a second for the news to sink into my parents, so Bubbe is the first to stand up and thank her graciously. I follow suit, but I'm so happy to hear that he's okay that I give her a tight hug before saying “Thank you.” I feel tears in my eyes, and can tell the tears have been waiting, ready to hear about the loss of my brother, but now they are spilling out as tears of joy. My parents are sharing their appreciation when the perfect family is there to ruin the moment.

  “Hello? Kenny? What about him?” snaps Jason. Doctor Spruce looks around to face Jason. She is hesitant to answer him, because you can tell she’s ready to snap back. “We are still working on t
he others,” she finally says.

  “Then chop-chop, let's go!” demands Jason, clapping his hands together fiercely. I catch a look from Shana that I understand instantly. It means “Why do his parents let him act like that?” Shana’s family is in the same position as the Larch’s, but you don’t see them snapping and yelling. Dr. Spruce looks like she's about to slap him when a nurse with a little blood on his scrubs, rushes out and makes eye contact with her, shaking his head and pointing his thumb back into the ward.

  I can't translate the message he gave her like the way I do with Shana, but I know it means bad news for someone. Both of them rush into the intensive care ward without a word. I look at Shana and see that same look of dread renew in her gaze. She might not have the relief I just received. We wait another five, ten, fifteen minutes? It's too long to want to keep count. Eventually, a lone doctor comes out of the ward, with a grim look across his face. This must be Dr. Bad News.

  “Hawthorn family?” he asks, looking over at the Hawthorns. They all look at him, but don't say a word.

  “Would you come with me please?” he says. They all rise and follow him, not to the intensive care ward, but down the hall. A pit falls into my stomach. There's no use pretending that the worst didn't happen. No self-respecting doctor would lead a family on like that just to say “She's okay!” at the end.

  The nurse from earlier comes through, with a look on his face equally as grim as the doctor. He turns and looks at the Larches, but he doesn't get to say a word before they realize what happened. Jason steps out and looks at the ground. The parents both hold each other. The nurse stops, realizing that they already know what happened.

  “I'm sorry. We tried our best, and it looked like he was going to make it but-”