The Slender Man (4 page)

Then I see it. Just out of the corner of my eye stands a
dark figure, but I’m not sure what it is. It’s shadowy, and its movements are
violent and jagged, like static, but I can only see it through my peripheral
vision.
Why couldn’t this happen with my face turned to the right?
I
realize that it’s standing over Adam’s bed, and I open my mouth to say
something, but nothing comes out but wind, nothing but an exhale. I try harder,
but still nothing. I keep trying, watching the blackness. I start trying to
yell, and then I scream, and although I fail in doing so, I can hear my voice,
just a little squeak. I push my voice out as hard as I can and can hear a
slight moan. I get some feeling return and keep trying. My voice gets louder
and louder until I feel a jab on my wrist.

“Alyssa!” I open my eyes.

“Are you alright?” asks Dad. I look around. I’m still in the
hospital. I look and see three confused pairs of eyes on me, but the room is
bright with afternoon light and clear of dark beings. Adam’s heart is still
beating.

“Oh... um yeah, it was uh. Just a nightmare,” I say as my
thoughts return to me.

“Sounded terrifying, what happened?” asks Mom.

“Oh just. I couldn’t move, but I was awake,” I explain. “Oh
alright well we should probably get going anyway. Visiting hours are almost
over and I want to check in with the Hawthorns,” says Dad. Visiting hours over?
I look at the internal clock on my phone. It’s a quarter to four. I slept for
nearly three hours, and yet it seemed like I just dozed. What was that thing
though? That entity I saw. It’s as if it was
watching
Adam, but why? Was
it just a nightmare, or some kind of omen?

Denise’s funeral is the first I’ve ever been to. It is being
held outdoors in the local cemetery, and since we aren’t part of a congregation
(the only time we even make the trip is for the High Holy Days), Dad is leading
the ceremony as lay leader in place of a Rabbi. I’m surprised at the number of
family members that flew out here on such short notice, but there are no less
than four additional families related to the Hawthorns here for the funeral.

 Only a few people of our community were invited to come,
including us, the sheriff, the Willows, The Sourwoods, and a few other
individuals. Many other families have their own funerals to attend, and others
like the Larches simply aren’t welcome. I offered to play some songs on my
guitar for the funeral, but Mrs. Hawthorn says that some of their family
members might look down upon music or anything celebratory at a funeral. We
aren’t even allowed to bring flowers!

I specifically told Mom that I want flowers and music and
junk food at my funeral. I want to go out with a bang, but this funeral just
makes me feel worse about Denise. It’s only been three days since the accident
and it feels like there has been no real preparation other than chairs and the
coffin lying before us. I’m sitting in the front row, but the rest of my family
(aside from my Dad), sits in the middle section, making room for the Hawthorn’s
relatives to take their seats up front.

I look at Dad standing before the coffin. He’s reciting
prayers, but I can barely hear him. I’m lost in my own train of thought.
What
do we do now?
I think.
Do we just move on, carry on like normal? Or will
things be different now? Empty?

As I think, I look around at all of the faces looking at my
father. I’m surprised to say there aren’t that many people looking directly at
him. Many are looking at the ground, others at their hands, and even some of
them are looking around like me. I look and see Leanne Sourwood, the girl who
keeps trying to show me up on track. She has short blonde hair that comes down
to her ears, and bright blue eyes. I won’t say she’s spoiled, she does work
hard, but she also likes to use that to one-up people, and even today she’s wearing
the most casual dress clothes on the market. It’s as if she has no time to
dress for a funeral, as if she’s beyond them. My dress comes down to my knees,
and I have tights that cover my legs down to shiny black pumps. Right now she’s
staring at me angrily as if I’ve done something to her. We’re excused from
school until the funeral finishes, and so I haven’t had the chance to use
Shana’s idea to beat her in a race, but she’s still glaring at me. Is she
jealous of something? I look away, trying not to make this funeral seem
awkward.

After Dad finishes reciting the passages, they lay Denise
into the grave, and we all line up to pour a shovelful of earth into it. Since
I sat in the first row, I am one of the first lined up to take their turn. As I
approach, one of the funeral staff hands me a spade, and I scoop up a shovelful
of dirt and place it upon Denise’s still very visible coffin. The dirt splashes
against the coffin, not even making a dent in filling up the grave. I hand the
shovel to one of Shana’s relatives behind me, and move on. I stand and watch as
everyone takes their turn with the spade. Some of their relatives cry, or say a
quick farewell as they take their turn. Others remain silent and solemn.

When Leanne is handed the spade, she looks reluctantly at
the grave, as if she doesn’t want anything to do with the burial, but she
quickly recovers from her hesitation and dumps a hefty amount of soil into the
grave before handing it back to her mother. Leanne didn’t lose anyone related
to her in the crash, but I’ve heard that she lost a baby brother to pertussis
sometime before I moved here, but she never talks about it. Either way, it’s
probably not the first time she’s had to deal with something like this. Leanne
and her mother are the only Sourwoods that came, and lined up behind them are
the Willows. The Willows didn’t lose any of their children in the crash. Their
youngest is four, and an only child. When everyone in the line has taken their
turn, the grave is still nowhere near filled. It’s now that Dad ushers some of
the mourners to stand around the grave and recite the burial Kaddish. Most of
the people around the grave are Denise’s family members, in fact I think my
Dad- who’s leading the ceremony, is the only one not directly related. After the
burial Kaddish, he leads all of us- at least those of us that know the words
(not including me) into the mourning Kaddish, while the hired funeral staff
takes over filling the rest of the grave.

After the burial, Dad hosts a memorial session, and throughout
the whole event I can feel Leanne’s eyes boring holes into my neck. I catch her
looking at me twice, and then avert my gaze, knowing she’s still looking at me.
If I’ve done something to set her off, I don’t know what it could be. After the
memorial, I decide to confront her.

When most of the audience drifts around the site, not
wanting to be the first family to leave, I approach Leanne. I tap her on the
shoulder and she turns around to face me. It’s only when I get this close to
her that I realize just how pallid her complexion is. She barely has any more
color on her skin than Adam. She looks me up and down, sizing me up, as if she
hadn’t noticed me all day, and wonders why I have the audacity to purse my lips
at her like this. She raises her eyebrows. I hold my hands out and shake my
head.

“I don’t like passive aggressiveness Leanne. What is it?” I
say. She cocks her head to the side as if not sure how to respond to my
approach. I can tell she originally intended to play dumb for her initial
response, but is intuitive enough to know that I’m ready to skip that.

“I don’t like you,” she finally says.

“It seems like more than that. You don’t stare at someone
for hours just because you don’t like them. You look like you want to kill me.
Like you hate me. Why?” I ask.

Now Leanne purses her lips.

“Look around you,” she says. I look around.

“Everyone here has lost something. Everyone except you,” she
continues.

“You don’t think I’m suffering from this?” I ask.

“Your phony empathy can’t compare to real suffering. You’re
just playing along, not sure how to handle it. You think you’re the lucky one,”
she answers.

“Are you saying that Adam should have died too?” I ask,
getting angry.

 Her eyes tell me that
is
the truth, but her mouth
doesn’t want to admit it out loud.

“I’m just saying it’s not fair that you all got to cheat
your way out of it. This is one of three funerals I’m going to, but this is
probably the only one you’ll go to. Am I right?” she asks snidely.

 “Cheat my way out of it? What do you-”

“That’s because you don’t care about the dead children. The
only reason you’re here is because of Shana, out of respect, but you don’t feel
any loss for her sister.”

“How can you say that? They’re like family to me.”

 “But they’re not your family. You haven’t suffered any real
loss. You think Lady Luck is on your side, but it’s about time- oh,” she stops
and puts her hand to her face.

I narrow my eyes and try to figure out what’s wrong, and
then I see it. I see a little trickle of red running from between her fingers.
She’s having a sudden nosebleed. I think about offering help, but after her
selfish reasoning over how I didn’t lose Adam or care about Denise, I really
don’t think I should. She pushes past me, I guess to get a tissue, but the
closest building to the funeral site is the funeral parlor which is a few
hundred feet away, so she breaks into a jog. It almost mimics the speed she
runs in front of me on track.

Something catches my eye. I look and see Lionel Willow
running around the graveyard, seemingly unattended. Lionel is pretty short,
even for a four year old, and the puff of curly brown hair on his head is
almost as big as his face, but it’s not him that catches my eye. I walk over to
investigate closer and as I approach I almost see it. It’s mid-afternoon,
bright daylight so you can see through the lightly spaced tree line, but in one
area, in one gap, you can hardly see anything. Instead there is blackness. It's
not just a shadow; it's out of place, like someone is standing there. Could it
be someone hiding behind a tree? No with the way the sun is positioned, from
behind the trees, the shadow would be cast toward us. This one is in one spot.
I walk over to it, hoping it's just a trick of the eye.

As I get closer I can see that the shadow is moving, and I
recognize the movement. It's got those violent, jagged contortions like the
static being from my dream. Only this time it's not as vivid or as clear. If
not for the incident in the hospital, I probably would think it’s all in my
head. I walk over to Lionel and he looks up at me. I've only met Lionel a few
times, mostly on special occasions, and every time I meet him he gives me a big
baby-toothy grin and says

“Hi.” This time Lionel stops moving and begins to cry. I
squat down and put my hand on his shoulder. He's starting to wail and I heard a
pair of footsteps approach. Mrs. Lionel comes swooping in and picks him up.

“What are you doing way out here?” she asks him, but more in
a cooing manner than scolding him. She looks at me quizzically.

I shake my head and say “I saw him running around over here
and came to get him then he freaked,” I explain.

“Oh, but he loves you! Maybe something spooked him. This
isn't a very happy environment,” she explains with a grin just as toothy as her
son's. Her teeth are bright white. In fact, it looks unnatural, but with her
being a dentist I guess you can expect that. He begins coughing and a spot of
blood appears on her neck.

“Oh I see,” she says.

“Someone's allergies are acting up, huh?” she says in that
same cooing manner. I give a forced smile and she nods back at me before
patting him on the back and walking back over to the others.

At that I remember why I came over here and look back to the
tree line. The being is gone, but I can still... feel it. I look around the
trees from my position and when I don't see anything, I turn back around. Is it
really the same thing I saw in that dream? I wonder. I know my eyes aren't
playing tricks on me. Maybe it is some kind of omen? Maybe Death is watching
over us hungry for more? I begin to walk back and notice the place is starting
to clear out. I don't see any of the Sourwoods and it looks like the Willows
are about to take their leave as well. In fact, even the cemetery staff seems
to be done with their job. I guess that's my cue to catch up with my family.

On my way I see Shana and decide to go and talk to her. When
I approach she looks up at me, but I'm still ten feet away and didn't want to
risk saying anything she wouldn't hear and trigger an awkward moment. I hold my
arms out as I clear the remaining distance and she accepts my hug with no
hesitation. She isn't crying, but I can tell the pain of losing her sister
hasn't dulled any from the day it happened.

“I'm sorry for your loss,” I say for the tenth time. I feel
like since I’m her best friend, I should have more things to say than what
everyone else has already said.

“Do you want me to stay over for shivah?” I ask. Sitting
shivah is another custom I don’t like. It’s when the mourning family stays in
their house and well, mourns, devoid of anything that would be considered
pleasurable. They don’t use hot water, shave, listen to music, or even leave
the house for a whole week! The only interaction they will even get is from
visitors like me and my family. It’s another custom I don’t want my family to
uphold, because all it will do is hurt them further after my death. Some may
not feel that way. Some may use the shivah as it’s intended, to set aside an
official period of time suitable for mourning and to let it all out, but not
me. It takes a while for her to muster a response, and she starts by shaking
her head.

“Yeah, but some of my relatives will still be in town
visiting for the first couple days, so not until Thursday. I need you to let
the school know I won’t be back for a week,” she explains.

Oh right... school. It's Tuesday today and we have that
essay to write. We haven't even started it, but I think Ms. Alder will forgive
us in light of the circumstances. That is, unless she shares Leanne's point of
view on my brother's survival.

 “Don't listen to Leanne,” she says, as if hearing my
thoughts.

“Huh?” I say.

“I overheard what she said. Don't listen to it. There's no
reason for her to believe that it's not fair Adam's okay,” she says.

“Equal isn’t always fair,” I say in response.

“Alyssa, it's time for us to get going, we need to give the
Hawthorn's some space with their family,” Dad calls. I turn and nod at him,
then turn back to Shana. “

See you Thursday?” I ask. She gives me a forced smile and
nods.

“Bring food,” she says. I turn back and head toward my
family. As I walk, my mind hops back to Leanne. If that's the way that she
really feels, then what about the others? Will all of them resent me?