literature

A Little Help From Slenderman

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Literature Text

     A young girl of only 16 lay curled up on the couch in the living room of her small trailer which she shared with her mother and her dog. Her parents had divorced and she was a high school junior. She had a boyfriend who loved and adored her and treated her like she was pure gold. He, in return, meant the whole world to her. He was her whole world, and he made her dark world just a little bit brighter. The poor girl was a schizophrenic, the voices in her head taunting her at all hours of the day and night. She was depressed; it was quite hard for her to be happy. These were just a few things among a list of many.

     As she lay on her couch, she cried silently into her gray pillowcase, her tears and muffled gasps slowly putting her to sleep. Her mother had already gone to bed, and was sleeping peacefully. And as the girl drifted off, a figure watched her through the blinds of the window: a tall figure with a pure white face and hands with long, bony fingers. The figure donned a black suit with a tie and long coattails. He watched her; he looked over her in a way. He was the one who heard her silent cries, he saw her tear stained cheeks, he could see the fading scars on her delicate wrists, and he felt the agonizing pain she felt within her dying heart.  He knew that this poor girl wanted, no, longed to be taken away from this place. But she had no way to get anywhere. With no car to drive and a broken bike chain, she was forced to be kept in this tiny, dark prison that she called her life.

     A sound was emitted from the tall figure outside her window; a sound that could have easily been perceived as a very sad sigh. The figure slid under the front door, morphing his long body like a phantom of the night. He walked over towards the sleeping girl, his feet merely gliding over the surface of the carpet fibers. He loomed over her for a moment, staring at her with an eyeless face. He drank in her appearance; soft, silky hair that had once been blond but was now dyed a fiery red; long, muscled arms that extended into delicate, yet calloused hands; hard-worked feet which peeked out from the end of her blue, flannel blanket. The faceless man gently picked up the girl in his arms, her head resting on one of his broad, yet skinny shoulders, and her feet dangling in the air as he held her in a bridal-style position. The man silently turned and walked through the door, bringing the sleeping female with him. He began to walk down her front steps, down her walkway, past her mother's rusty blue car, down the street and out of the trailer park. The man was going to do what he knew he had to: he was going to take her away from this awful place and take her somewhere safe. He knew that the road was miles and miles long; but his long, shadowy legs could get there in no time. He carried the sleeping girl down a normally busy street, but at night, it was practically abandoned.  But, even the few cars that drove past didn't see him. He was nothing more than a shadow, as was his unconscious passenger. The girl seemed a lot lighter than she had looked when she was curled up on the couch. She must have been starving herself. That was what the tall figure came to as far as conclusions go.  

     The figure felt the girl begin shivering in his arms and he held her closer, trying his best to keep her warm. The air on this dark night was especially cold, and it nipped at the redhead's nose, causing her to sneeze in her sleep. Her sneezes sounded more like tiny squeaks. If the figure had had a mouth, he probably would have smiled at the cute gesture. The girl's boyfriend always made fun of how small and mouse-like her sneezes sounded. The figure would've stopped to go into the woods and find a clearing to make a small fire but that would only be wasting time. He needed to get the girl as far away from her mother's home as possible. But it needed to be somewhere where the girl would be able to hide and be happy. Luckily, he knew just the place. It was an hour and a half long bike ride, though. So he knew that he would have to hurry if he didn't want the poor girl to freeze to death in his arms.

     The figure walked through a small town after walking past a school, the girl's school to be exact. And the town was quiet and all but empty except for a few teenagers who were smoking pot or cigarettes. But, they minded their own business and paid no mind to the tall, faceless man carrying the red haired girl in her pajamas who was wrapped in a blue blanket. The figure walked a ways till he came to the turnoff, and he turned right onto the long, dark road.  A few times while on this road, the girl stirred and started to wake up. The figure let out a sound that resembled a "Shhhh." And the girl would simply drift back into sleep, her heavy eyelids covering her chocolate brown eyes. The figure walked on and on, the road almost seeming to never end. It was a never ending snake made of hardened tar and concrete, its skin broken and cracked, and its long body curving this way and that. He walked past large barns with sleeping animals, sturdy farms houses, an old, filthy pond, and soon came to cross an intersection. Just a few more miles to go and the girl would be safe and warm; the figure picked up his pace a bit, his pointed feet barely even touching the ground, his movements blowing a few blades of grass to bend in the direction of his travel. He couldn't move too fast, though. He didn't want to wake the girl he carried gently in his long arms.

     After some time, the figure finally reached the end of the road, and he turned to the left. Now it was just another few miles or so and he would reach his destination. He felt the girl beginning to wake, so he shushed her again and her head fell back onto his shoulder. He didn't know how much longer it would be until he wouldn't be able to make her sleep anymore. But he knew that her sanctuary was close. He knew that soon, she would be safe. Soon, she would be happy. He walked down this road for a while, passing another intersection and some houses, along with some sawed down trees. It made the figure sad to see such beautiful things be killed. But soon, the figure let out a breath of relief when he came upon it. A house. A house that was hidden in the trees and growth of the land. This was the girl's real home. Her boyfriend's home. He knew that the boy would be sleeping by now; his perfect, shirtless body sprawled out on the bed, covers thrown askew. His black hair tossed about his head, and his bangs matted and stuck to his forehead from his constant sweating. His perfect, wonderful face, calm and peaceful as he slept on this night; on some nights, that beautiful face would be twisted in fear and anguish. He walked up the stony driveway, his feet making no sound as they passed over the loose stones and gravel. A purple light emanated from the boyfriends open window; he always left his black light on and the window open. The call of coyotes echoed throughout the countryside, signifying their time to hunt or the time for the hunt to end. The figure knew it was time to wake the girl, now. He gently set her down on her feet and shook her gently, and she awoke with a few sleepy and nonsensical mutterings of confusion, all of which were unable to be understood by anyone but her. She was still only half awake, her mind and body still in a desperate need for sleep, but she smiled happily when she saw the glow of her boyfriend's window and she stumbled over, eager to cuddle up next to him; it had been far, far too long since the two of them had been able to sleep in the same bed and feel the warmth of each other's exchanged body heat and safety of each other's arms engulfing one another. The figure followed close behind, giving the girl a bit of help as she climbed in the window; he knew that the fact that she was merely half awake would prove to serve her and himself some difficulties, her blanket also causing her to get her feet a bit tangled up as she attempted to crawl in the window, which her boyfriend had said served as an open invitation.

     Once the girl was safely inside the window and her blanket was wrapped around her tightly, she meant to turn back around to thank whomever it had been that had taken her from her mother's house and brought her here to her boyfriend's house. How did they know, though? Either way, said person deserved a thank you for their kind deed. The girl turned back around as she let out a rather adorable yawn and expected… well, in all honesty, she didn't know what she was going to expect. But, she didn't expect to be looking back at the pale, empty face that she saw. And, at this point, she couldn't have cared less. She smiled at the empty face and whispered a sleepy "Thank you." The figure nodded curtly before turning around and taking off into the darkness. The girl smiled as she heard her boyfriend move around a little as he heard her movements in the semi-darkness of his interestingly-lit bedroom. The girl smiled an adorable and very, very sleepy smile as she looked at her sleeping boyfriend, and at his pale body, which was nicked with a few scars here and there. She let out another yawn and she felt that her eyelids were becoming heavier by the second; she needed to lie down and go back to sleep before she fell over. As the girl pushed some hair out of her face, she stumbled over to her boyfriends bed, blanket still wrapped around her. She laid down carefully, wiggling her way into his arms and snuggling close against his chest, breathing in his natural, earthy scent. It smelled safe. And she soon fell into a deep, peaceful slumber, unaware of the handprints of the long, thin hands that had been burned into the soft fabric of her blanket.
A little story about a sad girl who gets a little help from an unlikely friend.

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jacobmosovich's avatar
Cool I thought he was gonna take her to live with him. Maybe slenderman DOES have a heart.