The Slender Man

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The Slender Man Page 8

by Dexter Morgenstern


  The police searched all Sunday for Shana. I remember seeing very many police cars, probably the whole force. I heard dogs barking, but the weeping of the Hawthorns, accompanied by my own, are what rings in my ears the most. They covered miles of woods- or so I'm told, yet Shana is nowhere to be found. The police finally began working with the press and are now hiring volunteer search parties to help cover more ground.

  I can't believe my parents expect me to go to school like this. I feel worse than I've ever felt, and they haven’t made Adam return to school, though of course his surgery is probably more of an excuse for prolonged absence. I was even expected to finish my homework, but every time I look at words on a piece of paper, my head throbs. It's not a headache, it's just- it's not the right time to be worrying about grades, even if I've fallen down to a C average. I worked on my homework, but I couldn't concentrate on the book well enough to find answers to the questions. I at least found the strength to Google the answers to the questions online. I know especially through recent events that cheating shouldn't even pop into my mind, but with everything going on it's the only way I'll get my work done. Plus-is it really cheating if I would have been looking up the answers in my book anyway? I consider Google more of a shortcut than a cheat.

  As I walk into the school, I look around at everyone, but all of their faces seem blank to me. The only face I want to see is Shana's, and I'm worried that's a face I'll never see again. I slowly walk into English class, and catch a sympathetic look from Ms. Alder. I don't respect her sympathy. It may have been me that turned in those essays, but it's her that reported them. Because of that, I wasn't able to stay with Shana, and now she's missing. If she really sympathized with me, she wouldn't have reported me, or at least would have given me another week to do the essays on my own.

  I sit at my desk and wait the few minutes for the bell to ring. I'm surprised when it does, because there are more than a couple of empty seats. One of course is Shana's, and another is Jason's, but it seems like someone else is missing, but with my mind almost shut down with worry, I can't name them. It's not like I know more than a few people in the class anyway.

  Ms. Alder begins by having us open our literature books. Great, something I'll have to pay attention to. I am not the best at grammar, but so much of each lesson is redundant, and there are really only a few different grammar rules you learn in each one, like comma splicing. With literature I have to actually learn about poetry, or read stories. Those are subjects I won't be able to follow. I open the literature book and am reminded about our multicultural phase. I see words like “Haiku” and my mind just goes blank.

  Ms. Alder always begins her lesson with her same monotonous teaching style. Sometimes I only get my cue to turn the page when the rest of the class does it. Other times I will glance over and see that my page looks completely different from another student’s and quickly- but discreetly turn the page to match. I know Ms. Alder is probably keeping an eye on me and I don't want her telling my father that I'm not paying attention. I see drops of blood fall onto the pages and hold the tissue up to my nose. I accidentally inhale some of the fibers through my nose and they irritate my already dry and sensitive nostrils. I sneeze, and what looks like a full ounce of blood splatters onto not only the tissue, but all over my hand, and even more on the book. Of course Ms. Alder notices this.

  “Oh Alyssa, go to the nurse immediately,” she says.

  “It's the same thing everyone else-”

  “No, just go see the nurse. She might have something for you,” she says.

  I sigh and slam my book closed, hoping the blood seeps into more pages. It's not my book, and I'm not the one who paid for it. She can lock this one up in that cluttered closet when I finish the school year- assuming I pass the grade. I walk out of the class, bloody tissue still in hand, and head down to the nurses office. There's nothing the nurse can give me that will work I'm just sick, and if I end up taking too many medications it will probably just put me in a worse condition.

  I march down to the nurse's office, or at least I originally intend to, but come to think of it I've never been there, and I don't even know where it is. I walk almost aimlessly around the school's lobby trying to jar my brain to figure out where I might have seen it. I finally decide to head down toward the entrance near the offices when I see a sign that says “Nurse” and an arrow below it pointing into the hall. Now I recognize the place. The hall is actually just a corridor that leads to a shared sitting area for both the school nurse and the school counselor. The counselor has been justifiably absent this week, but I'm surprised that they haven't hired a substitute for her.

  In the sitting area I see four students. Two of the students look just like me, another looks like he might be struggling with asthma, and the fourth looks just fine; he’s probably just shamming. I decide that since I already know that the nurse can't do much about my nosebleed anyway, I'll just go patch it up myself. I leave the hall before anyone takes more than one good look at me and head down toward the restrooms. I get inside and can almost forgive Ms. Alder's adamancy. Blood is all over my hand and the lower part of my face. You'd think I have a raging case of hemophilia combined with a broken nose or something.

  I think my body is reacting to the illness worse than the others. That makes sense given my poor immune system. I'm surprised it has taken me this long to catch it. I throw the soaked tissue away and begin rinsing my face with water. I watch as the blood dyes the water falling off my face. Once the water disappears down the drain, the sink shows only small signs of blood, I take a paper towel and plug my nose with it facing the ceiling. This usually hasn't worked for these nosebleeds so I guess I'm just doing this to feel like I'm doing something to combat the nosebleed at all. I feel a little bit of blood drain down the back of my throat and have to force myself to not cough and get blood all over the bathroom.

  I hear the door open. I don't like the idea of people watching me handling a nosebleed or runny nose- or well, anything to do with my nose. Since tilting my head back isn’t helping anyway, I decide I might as well go ahead and use the bathroom. I walk into the stall as the other person enters the restroom. I hear that the other person is in fact two people and they're talking to each other. I recognize the first voice as Lindsay Willow.

  “...Yeah I was tardy today too. Mom wanted to work on my teeth. It's getting on my nerves because you're really only supposed to see the dentist like twice a year, but I already got my first check-up two months ago, and this is my second time. I think she's just bored 'cause she doesn't have many clients,” she says.

  “Yeah well my Mom didn't even want me to come today. You know another girl went missing? Well she says all of the missing people went crazy before disappearing, and she thinks I'm going crazy,” says the other girl. I don't recognize her voice.

  “Why would she think that?” asks Lindsay.

  “Well I've been seeing things. Like I keep seeing this shadow out of the corner of my eye, and I keep having these real vivid nightmares about not being able to move and stuff like that. Hell, even I think I'm going crazy,” laughs the girl. This is no laughing matter though.

  I finish and leave the stall quickly.

  “Do you see the static- the shadow in your nightmares?” I ask. Lindsay looks at me with a surprised look in her eye. Lindsay is Jason's age but she's in the grade above me. She has long black hair with blue streaks in it, and a small amount of bluish eyeliner around her blue eyes. You can tell her favorite color is blue. The other girl has a similar style except her hair is short and with orange streaks, and with her tan complexion looks like she's Filipino or Hawaiian. She's giving me a surprised look as well, as if I've startled her, but that surprise glides into a glare.

  Lindsay speaks first. “You've got a little uh,” she says, scratching under her nose. Oh right, my nosebleed.

  “It's rude to listen into other people's conversations you know?” says the island girl. Great, instead of openly discussing it she just resorts to s
ome snobby etiquette defense-mechanism. I roll my eyes and hold the tissue up to my nose.

  “You want to bleed more?” she tests.

  I look her in the eye. I'm not much of a fighter, especially now that I am sickened, but I would love to take my anger out on someone like her, and she's my size anyway without looking physically fit. I can take her. She and I stare each other down like a pair of angry dogs for a full ten seconds before Lindsay pulls on her arm. The girl gives me one more size-up before turning and following Lindsay from the restroom. As I wash my hands and try futilely to stem the blood flow, I hear a message over the intercom.

  “Attention, at the end of this period, we need all students to be present in the auditorium. This is mandatory. Thank you,” says Dad's voice. They’re calling for a mandatory school assembly? The only time that happens is during graduation ceremonies, talent shows, plays, and things like that. This must have something to do with the missing students, or him?

  No, even if the apparition is common news by now there would be no way it's discussed in public. Even people who have it would call the speaker crazy. I look at the clock on my phone. This period ends in three minutes. I decide I'll go ahead and walk to the auditorium since my class will already be heading there by the time I get back. When I get there I'm surprised that the place is already half filled. Some of the classes have already taken their seats and I even notice a couple pairs of parents. Maybe Dad spent the day summoning parents for this meeting. I see Ms. Alder has already started seating her students so I find myself a chair with the rest of my class. The seats are all blue folding chairs that aren't very comfortable, but I think they're in use for their mobility, because the auditorium is the room used for dances and parties. It's not long after I'm seated that the auditorium is full of students and staff. We end up waiting a few minutes before the guest speakers take their posts on stage. The speakers- are the police.

  Several policemen including Deputy Yew and of course Sheriff Fraser take their places on stage. Deputy Yew stands uniformly with the other police, while the sheriff takes the stand.

  “In all my time as sheriff this county has never seen much crime,” he begins.

  “The worst we've seen are a few cases of theft, and once, and only once, a murder that was promptly solved. So it fills me with deep regret to see that when tragedy strikes this county our police force seems to have no leads,” he continues. He pauses before a brief moment, as if to collect his thoughts on how he's going to continue.

  “Recently we lost more than ten of our dear children in a very tragic accident, and since then more of our children have disappeared,” he says. There are no gasps of surprise from the audience. “We've been working on finding the missing children with no luck. Seven children have been reported missing since the accident. All of these children are affiliated with this school. I'm going to go over the list and if you've seen any of these children recently, please notify the police.”

  He begins to recite his list of students. He starts with Jason Larch and then moves onto the other students I haven't met.

  “Shana Hawthorn...,” he says, forcing me to wince. “...and most recently, Leanne Sourwood,” he finishes. My eyes widen. Leanne is the other person I didn't see in class today. She must have gone missing over the weekend like Shana did. That means three of the missing children I know personally.

  “Like I said we've narrowed the search down, and it seems they are all students in this school district. So we-”

  “Have you found any suspects?” asks a voice. Sheriff Fraser looks around the audience to locate the voice, but I already know who it is before she stands up, Rita Larch. “Who are your suspects?” she repeats loudly. I use my hand- that's already working on stopping my nosebleed, to cover my face as I look down.

  “Here she goes...”

  “Well we've gathered some volunteers and our fine policemen are undergoing a thorough search of the surrounding forests,” he says.

  “Well what about Mario's house? Isn't he the number one suspect? Have you searched his house? Why are you searching the woods if you haven't searched through his house?” she banters.

  “Now Mario Douglas is wanted for questioning since his disappearance from the hospital, but we have credible reason to believe that if these are kidnappings we are dealing with that he would be unable to commit them in his current physical state, and that he indeed may have been kidnapped as well,” explains the sheriff.

  “So? That doesn't make him innocent. I could kidnap a kid with a stubbed toe too,” she argues.

  “We will look into this, but we believe it is more likely a third party to-”

  “Third party?” she interrupts. “Well who's the second party? Kids just don't go off missing on their own,” she continues.

  “Well we are also looking into the possibility that some of the first missing students- the ones that disappeared shortly before Mario did, may be partly responsible.”

  I wince. That is not the thing to say to Rita if you want her to shut up. She catches on to what he's saying, and I savor that brief pause she takes before she releases her outburst.

  “How dare you accuse my son of- anything? I will find some real policemen and lawyers to put you down,” she begins. As she continues shouting, I see Deputy Yew leave his position in the background and walk forward. He steps down from the podium and approaches Rita, who's sitting in the front row.

  “Ma'am, I need to escort you from the audience,” he says. I didn't see the sheriff issue a formal order or even wave, so the deputies must have received instruction to remove anyone who caused a scene. Whatever it is, the sheriff isn't objecting.

  Rita sizes up Deputy Yew, who is only about her size. “Oh no, you have absolutely no right. In this country we have freedom of speech, and I will say what-” she protests, but he interrupts.

  “Ma'am, in the country we also have laws against disturbing the peace. Now I'm going to ask you one more time to exit the building with me, or I will remove you from the premises by force.”

  I smile when I hear those words. If there is one good thing during all of this strife, it's hearing Rita Larch being put in her place. I can hear her objections as Yew escorts her through the hall, and then the sheriff resumes speaking.

  “Like I said we have reason to believe that if these are kidnappings, that there is an unknown third party involved. Now we are doing all we can with our limited police force to put a stop to this. We’ve even notified the adjacent counties as well as the state police department,” he finally says.

  “Now one thing I have to say and another one of the main reasons I have brought you all here is that due to the multitude of students missing from this area, and the fact that an unknown third party is suspected to be responsible for their disappearances, the Cherokee County Board of Education has permitted a temporary district-wide suspension of educational activities,” he announces, and you can tell he had to practice that one in the mirror.

  Due to the grim situation, no one openly cheers, but I can see smiles cross the faces of many, even mine. It's not that I'm for skipping school, but with the losses I and those around me have suffered, I'm not fully able to focus on school.

  “Are there any questions?” asks the sheriff.

  “Yeah,” says one parent, standing up.

  “I understand the need for our children's safety, but how will we ensure the education of our children remains unaffected?” he asks. My smile fades.

  “We've already worked this one out with the board, and we all agree that the teachers will issue a week's worth of their curriculum to be done at home. I understand that this still puts a dent in their education, particularly physical education and group functions, but I am not against meetings in private, supervised places and exercise at home. Our main priority is to keep the children of our community safe, and that’s a lot easier to do when they’re with their parents than at a school,” he explains. I have to admit, aside from Rita, the sheriff knows how to plan ahead to give p
eople what they want. Maybe that kind of leadership is why he's been elected.

  “How long do you anticipate that this will take?” asks another parent.

  “We are hoping to solve this issue immediately, but hoping to and doing so are two different things. To ensure operational security, will be giving limited updates to the public, but if we find any priority suspects, or any of the children, we will let you know,” he answers. A few more parents ask random and sometimes redundant questions, but the sheriff eventually closes the school assembly with one final note.

  “One more thing I'd like to add is, people close to the missing children noted that shortly before the child disappeared, they complained of hallucinations. If anyone has hallucinations about seeing missing relatives, please notify the police, as that may something to do with their disappearances. Thank you.” After saying that, he steps off the podium and leaves the crowd to be excited and somewhat bewildered. I can see why he would wait to say that until after the barrage of questions were answered. After all, even I'm seeing things.

  10: The Reprieve

  I can't seem to get any sleep. Whenever I try to rest I end up with my face buried in a pillow; sleepy but not sleeping. You'd think that with my health and all of the drama going around that sleep would be the perfect escape, but I just can't seem to reach it. I lay here on my bed listening to the sound of dishes clanging as breakfast is being made. When I feel blood running down from my nose again, I have to force myself to get up and take care of it. I grab a tissue from the box that's been lying on my bed all night. I wipe up the blood and then throw the tissue in the trash can that has been sitting beside my bed all night as well. By now you can see nothing but bloody tissues inside.

  I come up to a sitting position and take in just how gross I feel. Well, not necessarily gross, but the dryness isn’t just in my throat and nose now. Now I feel like it has spread to my skin and I'm getting even worse. I sluggishly walk downstairs to get breakfast, maybe that will help. Mom has made muffins and eggs. When she sees I've entered the kitchen she begins fixing me a plate. I grab the carton of orange juice from the refrigerator and pour myself a hefty glass. I'll have enough Vitamin C to last a week. Mom sets my plate on the table and I sit down. Adam is in the chair next to me and he's already eating. He looks like he's fully recovered from the crash, aside from his broken arm, but I can tell he looks just as sickly as I do. One thing I notice about him is that he's all dressed up.

 

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