We gather around the table and Mom guides everyone through the Motzi. During shivah the mourners still observe the Sabbath, which helps to lighten up the mood a little, but the absence of Shana's... lucidity, ruins the mood, at least for me. Shana doesn't eat at all, not even any of the challah. She does push her food around a bit though.
Today, our parents stay off the topic of Denise, so conversation is easy to carry. The Hawthorn parents keep trying to draw me in, but it seems Dad doesn't want me doing too much talking. When the Hawthorn's ask
“How was school today Alyssa?” he answers for them
“She failed her essay, a big one.” It's true that I failed the essay, seeing as I will end up getting a zero, but he's leaving out exactly how I failed the essay.
After dinner, Mrs. Hawthorn says
“Why don't you and Shana go hang out upstairs, we'll take care of cleaning up.” I can't tell if she's hoping my presence will help restore Shana's mood, or if she caught onto how awkward Dad is making the conversation. I have to guide Shana upstairs. It's as if my hand tugging on her is the only thing guiding her through her thoughts. When we get up to her room however, she let's go of my hand and walks over to her bed. She sits down on it and pulls her knees in, wrapping her arms around them.
“Is it Denise?” I ask, hoping to draw some kind of conversation out of her.
“Denise, it's not Denise. It's not her,” she answers, rocking herself.
“You said you were seeing her.”
She looks at me, this time directly in the eye. It looks like she wants to cry, but there are no tears.
“It's not her,” she repeats. “Who is it then?” I ask. With that question she stops moving as if to think. She furrows her brow as if she thinks she should know the answer, but it's not coming to her.
I note how dark the circles underneath her eyes are. “Have you been able to get any sleep?” I ask.
“I don't want to sleep,” she says, her body rigid with terror.
“Why not? Is that when you see her?” I ask.
“He wants me to sleep,” she says.
“Who is he? Who are you seeing?” She bites her lip in response and shakes her head. “Is it the static? It won't let you sleep?” I ask.
She looks back at up at me. She opens her mouth to speak, but then stops. She does this a couple times before finally getting out what she wants to say.
“Don't leave me again.” As much as I want to tell her that I won't, my thoughts run to my Dad, and how if I were to dig my nails into the floor, he'd be willing to drag me out. I could kick and scream and he won't be willing to let me stay here. If I hadn't turned in those essays. I sit beside her on the bed and put my arm around her.
“I need you to be strong,” I say. I feel her shudder. She may not be herself, but she definitely understands what I'm trying to say to her.
“The essays didn't work,” I say. I figure if I get her off topic, I can pull her back to herself.
“The essays didn't work,” she repeats.
“The essays,” she continues. I'm not doing a very good job.
“Why did you choose that story?” I ask.
“The story,” she says. I think she's getting worse.
“Shana, listen to me. Why did you write that story?” She doesn't answer. I feel a wave of static pass through me. I know what this is.
“Shana?” I ask. I look at her, and see her eyelids have closed. “Shana!?” I say, trying to wake her up, before she- or even I see it.
She jumps awake and looks at me. She pauses for a moment and then begins panting and trembling. Finally she says.
“Don't leave,” again. I don't know what to say at this point, other than point out the fact that she definitely needs psychological help. I hold her, and she keeps saying
“Don't leave me. Stay here,” over and over again, as if begging me not to.
It breaks my heart when Dad comes up to tell me I have to. I hear the door open.
“Alright, let's go,” he says.
“Dad I-”
“No.”
“Dad listen-”
“Can it!” I feel his hand around my arm and he yanks me up. He really will drag me out even if I kick and scream. Before we leave the room, I look back at Shana and see that she's buried her head into her knees. She's crying now, and even I feel like I’m about to. It's not just because I'm sad to see her like this, but because I've seen weird things too, and I know something bad is about to happen.
The drive home is silent. I'm too busy worrying about Shana to say anything, and Dad is too busy not wanting to hear me complain to get me started.
When we get home, there is no Adam wandering the street. I guess having him go to sleep in Bubbe's room with his medicine did the trick. When we get inside, Dad tells me to get any homework I have left done, and then get to bed. I don't know why he emphasizes the homework. What homework I do have can all be done over the weekend, and since it's unlikely I'll be doing anything fun while being grounded, I'll have few distractions. Of course the distractions I have are huge. Like the strange things I’m seeing, the missing people, and most of all, Shana.
I'm not sleepy immediately, so after I'm in my pajamas-a plain tank top and sweat pants- I do as my dad said and work on my homework. No essays this week, but I do have a chemistry lab on Monday. We will be doing an experiment on... I don't even know. I flip open the book and try to find the pages that look like we went over most recently. I finally find a chapter on covalent bonding that looks familiar because of the pictures. I read over the chapter, but it takes me a while to cover it, because my mind keeps drifting off to Shana, and although my eyes are reading, my mind is worrying. Once I do finish the chapter I still have no idea what a covalent bond does, or even is.
I am starting to get drowsy from the stress and reading, but I decide to at least look over history. U.S history is a little easier. It's mostly about remembering names and dates, and if you get that right, A minus. As I read over the chapter the homework assignment is on, I think about Shana less. Maybe because social studies is less involved it's easier for your mind to stay on it. After reading a few pages though, my drowsiness kicks in and I lay my head down next to the book. I'm feeling lazy, but with my light on I'm not getting anywhere near sleep.
I force myself to get up, push the book off my bed, and flick the light off. It's a little warm, so I only cover up with my top blanket. While lying down, I close my eyes to go to sleep. With my eyes closed and my mind sleepy I should be able to fall asleep quickly, but with a heart full of anguish and worry, I don't. As I replay the events of today over my head, I feel a few tears rolling down my cheek onto my pillow. From missing students, to failed essay, to Shana, whose only wish is for me to stay with her so she won't have to face Denise or “him” alone. I've succeeded in nothing today.
After a few more minutes, I feel that I am almost asleep, but then I hear wind rushing and open my eyes. I can't move. It’s happening again! I think. I repeat the process of sending movement commands to my body, but this time I don't feel that slight twitch. Instead, I feel the static, or the numbing force that's holding me down pulse. It's like the more I fight, the stronger the force gets. Is he here? I look around with my eyes, probably the only part of my body I can move. I can sense him, but the room is empty.
Maybe he’s going for Adam again? I can't see Adam in Bubbe's room across the hall, and even though I can't see the fiend, I know he’s going for Adam now. Maybe if I wake up, I can get up. How do I wake up though? Last time I screamed myself awake. My lips are open just a bit, and I begin to push my voice out, but there's no sound. I try as hard as I can, to get that moan to come out, but there's nothing this time. It's as if he’s stronger than before. I close my eyes. Maybe if I try to go to sleep, I will wake up? With my eyes closed, I try and drift into sleep, but then it hurts.
The static screeches and the grip tightens. I try to open my eyes, but I can't. No, am I locked in this blackness? I can still feel the bed
pressing against me, but the static isn't letting up, and I can't even open my eyes. When I tried to drift into sleep, the grip tightened. Is this what Shana meant? Is this why she wouldn't go to sleep?
It is, she was fighting him! I have to too. I do everything I can to squirm, scream, and open my eyes. I feel my body trying to obey the commands from my brain, but his force won’t relent. How long do I have to fight before he leaves? It feels like a minute; five; ten, but as I vainly fight I feel my heart racing, and my strength waning. Is he winning? I feel myself slipping... and then a tap.
I open my eyes and almost scream when I see something that looks like a shadowy hand disappearing underneath my bed. Not from around the bed, through it! I jump off the bed and hit the light switch in a single motion. I drop to the floor and look underneath the bed; nothing there.
“Adam,” I mutter. I rush to Bubbe's room. Relief hits me as I see Adam in a pallet by her bed. He's breathing, and he's asleep. After splashing some water on my face, I walk back to my room. I consider falling back asleep. My body is tired, but what if that thing attacked, and won? I don't know what to make of it. Perhaps it was part nightmare, part real? I hope it's all nightmare and none of it is real, but I sleep with my light on just for the illusion of safety.
In what seems like only an hour, I feel hands pushing me. I violently jerk up and see my mother.
“Get up, something's wrong,” she says. She hurries out of the room before I have a chance to respond. I hurry up behind her and my mind races. What could be wrong? Is it something to do with the static? Mom runs downstairs. I can see through the window that it's early morning. Adam was fine when I went to sleep, so unless he took him after the attack it wasn't him.
Maybe it left a message? I don't know what is happening, so I hurry downstairs as quickly as I can. When I get downstairs I'm surprised to see Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorn are standing there speaking with my Dad. When I come from around the stairway, they all look at me. Mrs. Hawthorn has tears in her eyes.
“Shana,” I mutter to myself. Dad speaks first.
“Something's happened to Shana.”
“Is she dead?” I ask horrified.
“We don't know,” he answers.
“We were hoping she'd run away, and come here,” explains Mr. Hawthorn.
“She's missing?” I ask. He nods.
All inside of a second, I feel a lump in my throat, my stomach gets heavy, and my heart begins pounding like a fist. I was right. I'd been right all along. Something bad was about to happen. Something bad did happen to Shana. Only when it did, I was worrying about Adam. Not once had it crossed my mind that the nightmare meant something was wrong with Shana. Maybe it's because the nightmare took place here that I assumed the fiend was after me or Adam.
I feel a hand touch my shoulder and look to see Bubbe standing beside me.
“Please, Alyssa. Did Shana say anything to you last night? You were the last person to have really spoken to her,” asks Mrs. Hawthorn. I'm still not ready to answer. I'm not sure what to say. Shana's missing, like the other kids. Jason said he was going to help Kenny right after he saw the fiend, and then disappeared. That might have happened to the other missing students too. Shana saw Denise though, but instead of trying to help Denise, she stayed home, and wanted me to stay with her.
“She wanted me to stay,” I finally say. “She, she didn't feel safe at home and wanted me to stay. She begged me.” I'm saying this aloud for them to hear, but it sounds like I'm accusing myself.
“I've just phoned the police. They're on their way,” says Dad, who I didn't realize had left the room. I need to sit down, but I can't command my feet to move over to a chair, so I plop down onto the floor right where I am. My head hurts, and as I look around the room I can see I'm not the only one in pain. The Hawthorn's have already lost their youngest daughter, and they have only a shred of hope that they haven’t permanently lost their first born daughter as well. As yet they have no reason to believe she's dead, but I know that she won't be found wandering the streets. I have to tell the police what Shana told me about Denise and him.
It's the only way I can help her, because even I don't have any clues as to how to help her any other way. She said that Denise wanted her to go help her in the forest, and that the man wanted her to sleep. Does going to sleep enable him to attack you? Does he put you in a trance and make you walk to him, or does he just whisk you away? I felt something trying to force me to go to sleep last night, but neither of those things happened, so what does it mean? Was the fit I had related to Shana's disappearance?
I sit here, thinking about what I could have done to prevent this. Maybe if I’d fought harder and stayed awake, Shana would be okay. Or maybe if I found a way to convince my Dad to let me stay she would be here now. If I hadn't turned in those essays I'd probably have been allowed to stay with Shana. I can't keep looking backwards though.
When I hear the knock on the door that can only mean the police are here I realize that the only thing I can do is try and help find her. I'm surprised to see that the sheriff personally came, and is accompanied by Deputy Yew, who looks utterly forlorn. He's stressed too. It's probably because he's been dealing with the other missing students, and now there is another one for him to find.
The sheriff begins by questioning the Hawthorn parents, and when they can't give him any information that might help, he comes to me. He doesn't have to say anything.
“When we visited on Thursday, she said she was seeing things. She said she was seeing her sister,” I start.
“Like how you said Jason was looking for Kenny?” asks Deputy Yew from the corner. I nod, and continue on to explain how she said Denise wanted her help too, and that she couldn't go to sleep without seeing Denise. I tell them everything I can recall, including how Shana was refusing to fall asleep because she was afraid that he would get her. I almost sound crazy myself telling them this, but when I explain how Denise kept telling Shana to go to the woods, they finally look like I've given them a shred of decent information, other than the fact that Shana needed psychiatric help.
“So if Shana gave in and tried to help her sister, her destination would be some point in the forest?” asks Sheriff Fraser, writing this down. I leave out the parts about how the apparition has also affected me and Adam, and how I suspect this is not as easy as Shana running into the woods.
“I think we need to issue a search party then. We can scan the entire forest,” says the sheriff.
“If Shana went into the woods, there's a chance we might find the others too,” he continues.
I look over his shoulder and see Mr. Hawthorn holding his wife, who's crying helplessly. “If we had known this, we'd have gotten her help immediately,” he says. I don't believe that. If he really carried more about Shana's well-being than the shivah tradition, he'd have gotten her some help while she was catatonic, not wait until she disappeared.
I listen to myself. I listen to how hateful I sound. Being angry with her parents won't bring her back, but what will? Is there a chance that she really will be found in the woods along with the others? All I know is that there's a chance that this wouldn't have happened if I'd stayed with her in the first place. I keep thinking about the courses of action I could have taken to prevent being grounded: words I could have spoken; friendly gestures; not turning in the essays. It all leads to those essays. I feel a hand on my shoulder.
“We'll find your friend,” says Deputy Yew. He's looking down at me with pity in his eyes. “Even if I have to do it myself,” he adds. I'm surprised that he came to console me rather than her parents.
“We'll get to the bottom of this,” throws in Sheriff Fraser.
“Alyssa,” he says. I look at him.
“If anyone and I mean anyone, shows any signs of Shana's or Jason's behavior, you let us know immediately. I'm not sure what's going on, or why everyone's seeing things, but it all ties in with them going missing, and we can't have another disappearance on our hands,” he explains.
I hesitate for a moment, trying to think of anyone that would confide in me about seeing the fiend, but even Jason only told me by chance.
“Will do,” I say. The policemen take their leave, and I slump back down into the corner. I keep telling myself there's a chance they'll find her, but something inside tells me that's not going to happen. I've lost Shana, and I have no idea how to get her back. As the thought settles in, I feel heavy, and weak. I lay my head on my knees, mimicking the last position I saw Shana in, and feel her emptiness. I feel her sorrow, and I start to cry. It's all I can do. It's all I want to do. I'm sitting here like this for what seems like an eternity, before I feel another hand touch me. I look up and see the one person in the house who would try and comfort me in a time like this, Bubbe. My parents are with the Hawthorns and Adam is sick and in bed, but Bubbe sits down right beside me, arm around my neck. I smile and lean into her, like I would with Shana.
“Oh dear,” she says. I look up and see her handing me a small hand towel. I first think it's because I’m crying, but as drops flow down the side of my lip I taste them, and I don’t taste tears. I taste blood.
9: The Assembly
I feel less than human. I'm not sure if it's my emotions, or it's because of this new illness I've acquired. It's probably a combination of both. I'm walking into school, and every one of my limbs feels weighted. In my left hand I'm carrying a tissue to blot nosebleeds. My throat and nostrils both feel very dry, and my skin has paled from it. On the inside even my heart feels heavy with guilt, worry, and sadness. My actions are a factor in Shana's disappearance, and now that she's missing I can’t stop thinking about her. All things considered, I feel like- like I'm dying. The medicine I’m taking doesn’t work.
I’m thirsty no matter how much water I drink. It helps when I'm drinking it, but as soon as I swallow, the dryness returns. I feel like I've lost a pint of blood already. Nothing stops the nosebleeds that occur on and off several times per day. I can go a whole day without bleeding, and then have it run all night, and vice versa.
The Slender Man Page 7