The Tale of Mr. Slenderman

***WARNING*** READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. SCENES OF GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, GORE, AND MENACE. STRONG LANGUAGE IS USED.

VEIWER DESCRESION IS ADVISED.

June's P.O.V.

My head was throbbing painfully. Another night with no sleep. For months now I've been having these nightmares that would make even the bravest hero cower in unsustainable fear. I hear the blaring noise of alarm clocks ringing in my head, making the pounding increase. I went over to my dresser and threw my god-awful alarm clock out my open single bedroom window.

Wait.

My window wasn't open when I went to bed.

Was it?

I shrugged it off. It must have been.

I opened my drawers to pick out my days outfit. Let's see, Avenged Sevenfold tee, black mini skirt with black lace draped along the bottom, fish nets, my big black worm out combat boots, my red and black striped arm warmers, and my sterling silver pentagram necklace.

Perfect.

I walked over to my mirror and plugged in my straighter setting it to the highest level. Waiting for it to heat up, I apply a thick line of eyeliner around my eye, and swept charcoal black eye shadow above my eye and on to my very pale- almost white skin. I hear my straighter click telling me that it's heated up. I quickly run it through my blue and black thin hair, so every hair on my head is completely straight. With that done, I grab my panda backpack and head down stairs.

"June what the fuck do you think you're wearing?" my mom said. "You look like a fucking psychopath." She took a glare at me.

I just sat at the table next to my little sister, Abigail, and poured a bowl of cinnamon toast crunch into my favorite red bowl.

It was normal. She tells me this shit every morning, like it a part of her routine or something. It doesn't even faze me anymore. My sister and I would just sit there and eat our breakfast while she would scream at us. Every once in a while my sister would ask what she's screaming about this time?

Id just sign to her, "Oh, just calling me a freak again, nothing new." I'd shrug.

Then she'd sign back. "I don't think you're a freak, I think you're beautiful." And she'd smile her sweet little innocent smile.

If it weren't for her I would have ran away years ago. I love Abigail, who else would take care of her? My mom and dad don't seem to give 2 shits that she's def. they won't even learn sign language so they can talk to her.

My dad comes in yelling, "Why is there so much fucking screaming in here?"

"Look! Look at what your daughter is wearing! Her fat ass can barley fit into her skirt; make her change out of it! Now Glen!" she looks at me in disgust.

Okay, that's what starts to piss me off. Telling me that I'm fat. I'm just over 1 5/6 meters and weigh less than 8 stones, and she's barley 1 4/6 meters and weighs over 20 stones. She shouldn't be calling me fat; she wouldn't even care if I died of starvation. And, in reality, I pretty much am.

My father started yelling at me about how I need to change. (Which he does every morning.) Until his brown eyes almost pop out of his head.

I just sit there quietly with Abigail.

"Are you even listening?" he gets angrier. When I don't look up, he grabs my face and forces me to look at him.

"Look at me when I talk to you!" he snapped as his fist collided with my face. But having him hit there every day, I was almost numb in that spot.

Almost.

I could barley feel the blood vessel pop. There was a knife on the table.

I visualized so many times just picking it up and killing them both. To slit my mother's throat and rip out her vocal chords so she could yell at me or Abby ever again. And cutting open my father's chest to see if he really did have a heart.

But I could never do that. They were my parents. Even though how much I hated them, they were still my parents.

I snapped back to reality and grabbed my sister's hand as we went though the door to leave for school.

"Why don't mommy and daddy love us? My sister signed.

This made my heart sink.

How do you tell your 6 year old def sister why her parents don't love her?

I was about to sign back when I saw something in the trees.

It looked almost like a man.

Almost being a bit of an exaggeration.

I glanced away trying to connect the wires in my brain, then glanced back.

What ever it was, it was gone.

I felt in the pit of my stomach something strange.

Then it hit me like a ton of bricks.

I had seen it before.