Slenderman, Slenderman, Take this Child

by McGeorge, Lee

  On the sports field, a class of girls from her year were playing hockey. Band 1 girls did sports first thing on Tuesday and Band 2 girls did it for their second lesson. Jemima was Band 3. She had sports tomorrow.

  Band 2… The thought suddenly rushed through her head. Sabina and Kerry were in Band 2. They would have sports as their next lesson, if she could slip away from her class it would be the perfect opportunity to leave the letters in their bags or clothing.

  Jemima said the words. “Slenderman, Slenderman, take this child,” and this time, far from her window and on the far edge of the school field, she saw a tall thin man dressed in black. He was difficult to see as he stood between the trees and was unmoving, but she was sure it was him. “Slenderman, Slenderman, take this child,” she whispered to him; and with the words he dissolved from view. It was as though he faded from the real world but became stronger in her heart. He was here. Max was coming to life.

  At the end of the lesson she went to the bathroom and sat in a toilet stall for the whole of morning break. She had her Slenderman letters which she read over and over again. He was here. He was close by and it gave her strength.

  She had the letters and needed to put them in the clothes or pockets of the chosen.

  She knew where Sabina and Kerry would be for their next lesson.

  She knew what she had to do.

  ----- X -----

  “Who can tell me what made Orwell so distrustful of the media?” English literature was dull, but at least Mr Stockton tried to make it interesting. He was a good teacher in a bad subject. He often lamented that subjects like Dance, or History of Art were of equal merit to Literature and it was a tragedy that Lit’ was given priority over culture in general. “Can anybody give me an answer?” he asked again.

  There was no response.

  “Nobody,” Stockton said with a sigh. “Well, during World War II, George read radio news for the BBC. He saw the information come in, he saw it censored and altered, then he had to read out this altered news.” Stockton projected an image of a badly typed letter, “George read the news under his real name of Eric Blair, but in this BBC memo, the management discuss how it would have a propaganda advantage if he used his pen name of Orwell... How do you think he would feel about that? ...Anyone? ...How would George feel knowing the BBC were putting out a false story?”

  There was no response.

  “Nobody,” Mr Stockton said with another sigh. It was as though each unanswered question made him die a little inside.

  Jemima stood up and walked to the door. She felt eyes of her classmates on her back. A moment later Mr Stockton followed her into the corridor. “Jemima,” he called. “Is everything okay?”

  She half turned, putting on the act. “I feel like I’m going to cry and Miss Hoxton said I’m not allowed to cry in lessons. I have to go to the sick room.”

  “She said you’re not allowed to cry?” Mr Stockton put his palm to his face and mumbled a few words. Jemima imagined him disagreeing with Hoxton. “Okay, that’s fine. Come back when you’re ready.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered. Then as an afterthought added, “Orwell would have been disgusted at BBC abuses. Orwell would have felt ashamed at how the BBC covered up the truth.”

  Stockton had been defeated by his career, but he managed to smile at this.

  ----- X -----

  She had to be careful. English class was close to the sick room whilst the sports hall was at the other end of the school. If discovered, it would be a blatant lie to say she had left Mr Stockton’s class for the sick room.

  She walked as quickly as she could to the sports hall and noticed it was empty. She peeked into the changing room. Green school blazers hung in rows, but the room was empty of people and she stepped inside… Then froze with terror…

  There was a man in the girl’s changing room.

  “What are you doing in here?” the man snapped.

  “I… I…” Jemima stammered unsure what to say.

  It was Creepy Wilfred.

  He glared at her then went to the light switch and flicked it a few times, looking at the bulb going on and off. “Why aren’t you with the other girls?” he asked.

  Jemima started crying. She wasn’t sure why. She was caught and emotional and… “Ask him why he is in the girl’s changing room,” a breathy voice whispered in her head.

  “Why are you in the girl’s changing room?” she said more forcefully than expected.

  Wilfred looked up at the light and flicked the switch once more. “I’m doing repair work. I’m finished.” And with that, he left the room.

  Why was he here?

  “Find them,” the voice whispered again. The voice was different. It didn’t sound like Max, it was more aggressive, fierce. Max was near and he was guiding her, but it wasn’t Max. There was no love in this voice.

  From her pocket she took two of her letters and began methodically looking through the bags and clothing hung in the changing rooms. With everybody wearing the same uniform, there was no way to distinguish without looking to see the names on exercise books. Poppy, Nicole, Vanessa, Hannah, Emily, Reka, Lyndal, Alexandra.

  Sabina… Her bag was tan leather and filled with a clutter of tissues, makeup, sweet wrappers, house keys, mobile phone, as well as pens and pencils. Jemima searched her school blazer to make sure it was hers then held the letter over the pocket.

  “Say it. Say the words,” the Slenderman voice hissed. “Say the words as you put it in.”

  Jemima took a breath. “Slenderman, Slenderman, take this child.” She dropped the letter into the pocket and moved on. The next bag was Kerry’s, her clothes hung beside Sabina’s. She put the letter halfway into the pocket and said the words, “Slenderman, Slenderman, take this child,” then dropped the letter inside.

  As she left the changing rooms she was overcome by a powerful urge to look outside. She opened the exit door and peeked out. The girls were on the hockey pitch mid practice. Her intention was to keep hidden, but the moment she looked outside, she saw him. Far on the other side of the pitch. The girls were running back and forth in their hockey skirts, but beyond them, amongst the trees, was a tall thin man dressed in black.

  “Step outside, my love,” came the voice of Max. “Let me see you, my love,” he whispered in her mind. “Let me see you.”

  ----- X -----

  “Is that Collins?” Kerry asked out of breath.

  Sabina stopped her practice shot and leaned on her stick. Kerry motioned the direction with a tip of the head. “What’s she doing out here? She’s not Band 2.”

  “She’s pointing at us.” Kerry said. “Is that a threat or something?”

  Sabina laughed. “Her? Threaten us? You’re having a laugh.” Sabina looked around for the teacher. “Miss Nelstrop… Miss Nelstrop!”

  “Yes, Sabina?”

  Sabina pointed back to the school. “I think that’s Jemima Collins, Miss. I don’t think she’s supposed to be there. I’m sure she’s supposed to be in a lesson, but she’s had a bang on the head and behaving weird, Miss.”

  Miss Nelstrop didn’t acknowledge the comment but began walking towards the school. “Hello, Jemima,” she called when she was closer. “Jemima, what’s wrong?” It was only when she touched her shoulder that the girl snapped out of her trance-like state. “Jemima, what are you doing out here?”

  “I’m sorry… I felt like I was going to cry and was going to the sick room.”

  “What lesson were you in?”

  “English Literature, with Mr Stockton.”

  “You’re a long way from the sick room.”

  Jemima nodded. “Miss Hoxton told me if I wanted to cry I should go to the sick room, but when I was going there, I realised what I really wanted was to be alone for a moment.”

  Nelstrop held the door open. “Come on, I’ll take you round. We can’t have pupils walking the halls by themselves.”

  Jemima entered the door and took a few steps before stopping, holding her st
omach and retching as though she was about to be sick; misery and pain suddenly afflicting her. Tears poured forth as well as a wailing anguished cry.

  “It’s okay, Jemima,” Nelstrop put her arm around her but the girl gushed forth with a cry of utter torment. “My father,” she gasped between sobs. “He had... a... woman... last night.”

  “What?”

  “My mother… only… died… last week. He had a woman… in the house… last night.”

  Nelstrop sighed, then knelt down and wrapped her arms around Jemima. “It’s okay,” she said. “Everything will be okay with a little time… It’s okay… I promise you things will become okay.”

  It didn’t help. The girl just sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.

  ----- X -----

  Jemima was sat outside Hoxton’s office. Her fingers twisted together, her muscles tensed.

  Hoxton stepped out with Miss Nelstrop and said, “I’m sending you home and you will stay there for two weeks. I’m writing you an authorised absence form.”

  “No, Miss. I don’t want that. I just needed a moment alone but couldn’t find anywhere to go. I’m feeling much better now.”

  Hoxton put her hands on her hips. “Miss Nelstrop tells me you informed her there is trouble at your home, is that correct?”

  Jemima looked to Nelstrop who now looked down at her shoes. “No. There’s no trouble.”

  “She said you were crying because… her words are your father had a woman stay last night. Is that true?”

  There was a sudden swelling of emotions that rushed up from her stomach. Jemima felt that the moment the whoosh of feelings touched her face she would cry but instead something else happened. She felt her hand being squeezed. She felt a breath on her ear.

  Max was here and he gave her strength.

  “There was a woman,” Jemima said. “But it’s fine. It was just a shock and emotions came upon me suddenly.”

  “Don’t tolerate this woman’s cruelty,” Max whispered.

  “I told you, Jemima Collins,” Hoxton continued, “that I won’t have you acting out of turn and…”

  “...Are you serious?” Jemima said standing up to face the headmistress. “My mother was killed right before my eyes and you have the audacity to lecture me about what you consider appropriate behaviour?”

  Oh, my God… what was she saying? It was like the words came from nowhere.

  Nelstrop put a hand over her mouth and hugged her elbow close to her body, hiding behind a shield of body language.

  Jemima glared at the headmistress. “You’ve done a lot of talking but not enough listening, Miss Hoxton, so listen to me now. If I need to grieve, I’ll grieve. If I need space I’ll step outside. If I want to talk about it I’ll go and speak with the nurse, but I will not allow you to lecture me on how you believe a child should or should not display their emotions when dealing with the death of a parent.”

  Hoxton took a step back, caught off guard. “Jemima Collins, I think you need to stop speaking right now.”

  “Tell her, my love,” Max whispered. “Finish her.”

  “No, you need to stop talking.” Jemima took a step closer. “Are you trying to force me to run home crying? Do you want my father to bring it to the board of governors that your insensitivity and cruelty forced me to run home in tears?”

  Hoxton was silent, her anger tempered by uncertainty. She was holding her tongue.

  “I’m going back to my daily routine. I’ll stay for lunch and see how I feel this afternoon. If I’m emotional I’ll go home. If I’m fine, I’ll stay… but I’ll decide that and I’ll do it removed from your cruelty or judgements.”

  Nelstrop made a small hiccup kind of sound. A gasp at seeing Hoxton browbeaten by a pupil.

  Jemima turned on her heels and walked away. The moment she turned into the hallway and was out of sight she felt a bursting of emotions. Her hands trembled and her eyes filled with tears. She ran to the toilets and locked herself in a stall. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. “What have I just done?”

  “What did you do, my love?” the voice whispered in her mind. “You destroyed that cruel woman with the truth… I am proud of you, my sweetness… I love you, Jemima.”

  “I love you, too,” she said back. “I love you.”

  “You must deliver the letters, Jemima… To stop those who hurt you I need the help of your friends.” The voice was slightly different. It was still Max, but the tone was soured by aggression.

  Jemima took out her remaining Slenderman letters and stared at them. “Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll deliver these.”

  “Good,” the voice said. “Good.”

  ----- X -----

  Jemima saw William Warwick in the dining hall. She felt like sitting with him. In fact, she felt so full of confidence she felt like walking over and kissing him in front of everyone. Why not? He would either kiss her back or reject her. If he rejected her the people around them would point and laugh and it would be a public shaming, but none of that mattered because these people didn’t matter.

  Look at them.

  Kids. Pathetic children wrapped in their own worlds of one-upmanship. Mostly they bickered over wealth. It was an expensive school for rich families and these kids turned it into a contest over who had the most toys.

  Jemima carried her tray of food to a table close to William’s but didn’t sit with him. He was sitting on one side of the table with Owen and Christopher seated opposite. The two friends had their blazers over the back of their chairs. It was an opportunity not to be missed. She put her tray of food down on one table and knelt down to pretend to fasten her shoelace. She held the folded letters.

  “Slenderman, Slenderman, take this child,” she said dropping a letter into Owen’s blazer pocket. “Slenderman, Slenderman, take this child,” she repeated pushing the second letter into Christopher’s coat.

  “Are you alright?” Christopher said leaning back over his shoulder. Had he seen? Did he catch her hand in his pocket?

  Jemima stood and collected her tray of food. She didn’t answer Christopher, but now Owen and William had stopped eating to look at her. They were looking at her. She was the centre of their attention… and it felt nice.

  She smiled and gave a half wink before walking towards Danesha a few tables away. “I heard you walked out of Stockton’s class,” she said.

  Jemima nodded and tucked into her food. Meatballs with pasta. “I did. Nelstrop found me outside and took me to Hoxton.”

  “Hoxton is such a cow.”

  “She tried to send me home with leave for two weeks but I told her I was going nowhere.”

  Danesha smiled.

  “No, seriously. I don’t know where it came from but I was suddenly so mad I called her a cruel woman and walked away before she could answer.”

  “No,” Danesha said raising a hand to cover her face. “You didn’t. Seriously, you didn’t do that… did you?”

  Jemima lifted her head, chewing on a meatball, she made a slight nod. “I even told her if she continued to be cruel I’d have Daddy bring it to the board of governors.”

  “Hey… Collins.... What were you doing out there, freak?” It was Sabina, coming to cause trouble. Standing in her usual pose of hands on hips with boobs pressed out. “Answer me, Crappy Collins. What were you doing outside pointing at me?”

  Danesha weakly said, “Leave her alone,” whilst Jemima carefully put down her knife and fork and dabbed her mouth with a paper napkin.

  “You heard,” came a boy’s voice. “Leave her alone.”

  Jemima stood up to see that William Warwick had come over to intervene. Cool. Amazing. Oh, wow. William Warwick had decided to step in and intervene… not that she needed his help. A few other kids had turned to watch.

  “What’s it to you, anyway? It’s got nothing to do with you, William,” Sabina snapped.

  “I’m making it something to do with me,” he replied.

  Sabina laughed. “Why would you want to help her? Look at her,” Sabina po
inted at the wound to Jemima’s head and said, “she’s got a pair of piss-flaps on her head.”

  Everybody around them burst into laughter.

  “Alright, enough,” William said. “I’m going to get a teacher.”

  He was about to walk when Jemima felt an inner strength whoosh through her. The Slenderman again. Within her, talking to her, guiding her. She reached into her pocket and took out one of the folded up Slenderman notes. She put her arm out to block William’s path, the letter between her fingers. “That’s alright, William,” she said. “But I don’t need help to deal with a child-whore like Sabina.”

  “Ooooooooh,” the kids around them loved the insult.

  Jemima smiled up to William and stepped into his personal body space with confidence. “But thank you for coming to my rescue,” she said. Then without knowing how or from where her confidence was coming, she reached a hand up behind his neck, pulled his head forward and kissed him firmly on the lips in front of all the watching pupils.

  “Ooooooooh,” the kids said even louder.

  With her other hand she pushed the letter into his pocket. As their lips broke apart she stared into his eyes and whispered to him, “Slenderman, Slenderman, take this child.”

  Jemima let him go and looked across her shoulder to Sabina. “You’ll be gone by morning,” she said with a smirk. “You’re vanished.” She stepped away, allowing her hand to slide from behind his neck and across his chest sensuously then walked with a swagger out of the dining hall.

  William Warwick touched his lips with two fingers, looking lost and sheepish. Danesha had her mouth wide open in a look that suggested her mind had just been blown. Around them, the kids grinned silently, waiting to see what would happen next.

  “I’m going to kill her,” Sabina whispered fiercely. “I swear, I’m going to put that girl through pain.”

  ----- X -----