AN: Wassup? I would like to clear up a few things just in case if anyone is wondering.

Numero uno: This most certainly will NOT be a romance. In case if you didn't get the clues from the chapters, Slenderman is more of a father figure. So... yeah.

Numero dos: Slenderman isn't a merciless demon who eats children's souls here. Sorry if you wanted that. I can write another story at a request if someone wants a not so peaceful Slenderman. But here, he's gonna be nice.

Numero tres: I'm not planning on making this a long story with a bunch of chapters. But if you want it to continue, then I'll make a sequel. Meanwhile, I can't give you a number of chapters, but it won't be a lot.

By the way, I forgot to put a disclaimer, though I think it's somewhat obvious... I DON'T OWN ANYTHING BUT THIS STORY AND MY CHARACTERS (OF COURSE I DON'T OWN SLENDERMAN. DUH.)

Chapter 3

I can't sleep. I lay awake in my bed, counting yet again the glow in the dark star stickers that my parents stuck on the ceiling of my room when I was little. There they stayed, over the years, and still glow if given the necessary exposure to light. I slightly smile when I see my father's attempt of making the Big Dipper. Besides the slight crookedness, it looks beautiful. Nearby, there lies my mother's attempt of the Little Dipper. To me, it looks just as beautiful. I may be kind of biased, considering they are my own parents, but I haven't heard anyone tell me otherwise.

Slenderman and me had a nice little chat, getting to know more about the other. In our introductions, he had mentioned that he wasn't human (as if I couldn't tell that already, but I didn't say that aloud) and explained how with his supernatural appearance came supernatural powers. When he mentioned teleportation, he said that I should be getting home, and that he could teleport me there. I accepted, and now here I am. Still awake at two in the morning.

Though my eyes are slightly drooping, and I yawn once in a while, the thoughts in my head keeping playing over and over again, not letting me get some shuteye. My amazement at this majestic creature of the forest, Slenderman, doesn't cease. I yawn again. How come during all my years of living in this area so close to the woods, the thought never came to me to actually explore it. I have gone hiking in it at least twice with my family and friends, but I never went camping. Maybe he only goes out at night. That makes plenty of sense, because if I were him, I would enjoy the peacefulness of nature, especially if there isn't a bunch of noisy people around.

This time, when I yawn, drowsiness starts to take over my buzzing mind. My energetic thoughts start to slow down, moving as slow as molasses. I look up at the stars through my closing eyelids. My eyes scan over the Big Dipper once more before my eyes fully close. My thoughts now come to a stop, shutting down with only one word left. Slenderman. Finally, there's nothing but blankness.

My ears pick up the sound of a songbird. Its melodies carry in the wind, through my open window, and into my room. I can feel the cool breeze on my tanned skin. Wait… a breeze? Through an open window? When Slenderman teleported us, we went directly in my room. None of the windows were open. My eyes snap open and I quickly scan the room for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing is out of place except that window that's opened just a crack. I look on the windowsill, and that's when I see it. A small white envelope lays there, with my name in neat cursive.

I get up from my lavender bed, and once going up to the window, snatch the envelope quickly, as if I had anticipated it for a long time. My eyes follow the elegant curves of black ink that spells out my name. Andrea. I turn the envelope over to open the seal. I curse inwardly when I make a small tear that went the wrong way. I pull out a white piece of paper as bright as the envelope. Written on it is a message written in cursive as well, not as fancy like the way my name was written, but neat nonetheless. It's a brief message, only a few sentences long. I bring the paper to eye level to start reading.

Greetings Andrea,

I enjoyed your visit last night more than I could put into words. I haven't talked like that to someone for a rather long time. If you have the time, come to the woods at noon. There are much more things in the woods than the stream with the Koi, and it would be my pleasure to show them to you.

Sincerely,

Slenderman

I couldn't help but giggle a bit at Slenderman's formal way of writing. Sure, I may think formal too but the way I talk isn't so sophisticated. It's not like I swear, but I tend to use… smaller words. I read the message over one more time, then panic. What time is it? I rapidly look at my alarm clock on the nightstand beside my bed, and give a big sigh of relief when I saw it was 10 A.M. That leaves me two hours to spare. I might as well get dressed now. I put the letter back in the envelope and set it on my nightstand.

I dress into a simple white shirt with some jeans. I don't really care about what I wear, as long as it's not too flashy and doesn't attract too much attention. Some girls like to stand out and make a statement for themselves, and I do admire them. That was how my mother was like, but before this all happened. On the other hand, I get very uncomfortable if I'm in the spotlight. I feel better if I'm just blending in with the crowd, however boring that sounds.

I go down the stairs, my steps quieted by the beige carpet. I speed walk towards the kitchen to look for something to calm my morning hunger. My face changes onto the tiniest frown when I don't see my mother flipping a pan with a pancake. She isn't exactly a first class chef, but her food always makes my mouth water. Her specialty is pancakes, especially the blueberry pancakes I crave every morning. I sigh. I should be getting used to this by now, but I can't. I refuse. My mind isn't ready for this sudden and drastic change.

I grab a box of cereal from a cabinet and pour its contents into a bowl. I haven't even checked which cereal it was. I glance at the front of the box and see in big letters Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Not exactly my favorite, but it's fine with me as long as it satisfies me. My stomach rumbles in response. I roll my eyes at my body pleads for food. After filling it with milk, I bring the bowl back to the dining room.

The quietness of the room unsettles me a little, I must admit. My family would always eat together. I know several people who don't eat with their families, so I became thankful for the time spent with both of my parents. I'm an only child, so I have no siblings to chat with. Even with that in mind, I am, or was, home schooled, so I don't have many friends. In fact, I don't have any friends now. My only friend was this girl named Heather, who moved a month ago because her father is in the military. There was this other girl who would go often to the Starbucks I went to. I don't drink coffee, but my mother did. We would talk once in a while, but we weren't close enough to be called friends. Her name was Mary or Maria or something. Maybe it was Marian. Point is I'm not a very social person.

I finish my cereal and put it in the sink. I wash it by hand, and I leave it to dry. My depressed mother, still asleep on the couch, doesn't have the energy to do anything. She reminds me of those people in that commercial for the depression medicine. Depression hurts, Cymbalta can help. I pick up all the tissues and throw them away for her. I'm not disgusted of her, though I am a little disappointed. I don't want to be too harsh on her, but she really needs to cheer up. Life isn't over for her. I wish that she would realize that soon. I look at her sleeping form, her baggy eyes, her tangled up hair. I really do wish.