Dexter Morgenstern - The Slender Man

“Alyssa, hurry up!” Adam groans from outside the open door. I hold my palm out at him without even looking. I’m still grumpy from getting up at six rather than noon on a Saturday, so I’m not in any mood to be nagged. Although to be fair, Shana and I did cost him ten minutes while looking for clothes, so he’s been waiting for a while. I make sure to grab my keychain, water bottle, and phone and then stuff them into my jacket pocket. It’s not a very good phone. You have to flip it open, and it still has a dial pad, not like one of the smartphones, but I broke three cellphones in the past year so finally my parents got me the most durable one they could find. My keychain is pretty empty. It just has my house key and Mace.

After Shana and I are both ready, I inspect Adam. I can see the ties to his swimming trunks hanging from his jeans. He’s also wearing flip-flops, a T-Shirt, and a green jacket, but I notice something missing.

“How is Mr. Mario gonna know who you are?” I ask. He thinks for a second before realizing my point.

“Oh yeah,” he exclaims, sticking a hand underneath his jacket and pulling out his nametag. “It needs to be visible,” I say.

“Where’s Denise?” Shana asks. Adam points downstairs and I look to see Denise, fully ready to go, lying against the door half asleep. Glad I’m not the only one still tired. At least my jog will wake me up.

“Do you have your permission slips?” Shana asks. I completely skipped out on that, but luckily Adam is on top of the situation and pulls out a clumsily folded paper with the necessary signatures.

“Alright, let’s go,” I say, and lead Adam downstairs. Shana rouses Denise, who picks up her backpack and opens the door. As we head outside I fix my hair into a ponytail and take the lead. Luckily we’re just on time as I can see the bus pulling up to the stop down the street. Adam and Denise run to the stop, thinking they’re gonna miss it, but the driver just pulls up to our driveway.

The bus door opens and I can see Mario Douglas, who everyone calls “Mr. Mario,” the kindergarten and elementary school driver that I see every morning as I drop Adam off, with a half awake smile on his face. Mr. Mario is about thirty or so and has a well-trimmed beard. It looks like he has a receding hairline but he covers it with his driver’s cap, so you can’t really tell. He looks really mean every time I see him. He looks even grumpier now that he’s working on a Saturday and his smile doesn’t fool me, but Adam says he’s really nice and that he brings a bucket of candy for all of the children to take from every Friday afternoon. So maybe the only reason I think he seems mean is because he’s not a morning person.

Adam, already out of breath, steps into the bus panting and hands Mr. Mario the permission slip, followed by Denise who didn’t run quite as far as Adam did. Mr. Mario looks at me and gives me a wink and a nod before closing the door and driving off.

“That’s… creepy,” Shana says from behind me when the bus is far down the road.

“What is?” I ask.

“He winked at you. He doesn’t even know you,” she says.

“Well maybe he’s just being nice,” I shrug, but even I have my suspicions, though so far he hasn’t tried anything so I give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Come on,” I say, beckoning Shana to follow me as I take off. I always leave the neighborhood in a slow jog before hitting the tree line. Once we are at the stop sign that marks the three-way intersection before the woods, I stop and do twenty jumping-jacks, and a quick stretch. I don’t bother stretching my arms, but I do stretch my legs and hips, and I even throw in some ankle rotations. The woodland path I run on every week isn’t necessarily treacherous, but I have tripped a few times on a tree root or sudden slope, so I don’t want to twist my ankle by accident.

When we are ready, I run down the street and into the forest, with Shana close behind. I go straight in for about a quarter-mile before I reach a tall tree. The tree isn’t at all different from the others, but I recognize it well because it marks my first turn. Around the left of the tree is a slight incline. It seems like a longer stretch than it really is, but that’s because my legs always burn going uphill. Once we reach the next flat stretch I make another right and head along a seemingly straight path with the occasional turn that ends up forming a subtle semi-circle at the end, and the end of that circle is my mental mile-and-a-half marker.

“Oh Alyssa!” pants Shana. I turn to see Shana catch up to my side.

“I left my phone at your house… did you bring yours?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I answer without even needing to check.

“Okay good,” she says. Shana is a little paranoid about trips through the woods or even leaving her house alone, so being without a phone makes her feel even more insecure. We continue along the woodland path that I’ve traversed at least a hundred times by now.

We reach the halfway point, a small clearing in the woods that leads to an actual paved trail, shaped at a right angle. If we go left on the trail we end up in the school district, a place we don’t want to so much as think about until Monday, and the right way leads to a small park. This point means it’s time to turn around, because the loop will end up being over three miles. We stop and catch our breath. Shana hunches over from weariness. She does exercise, but she’s not so used to running.

“Did you bring any water?” she asks. I pull out the transparent blue water bottle I brought, down half of it, and then hand the rest to Shana, who finishes it off.

While she’s drinking I open my phone to look at the time. It’s eight after seven in the morning.

“When did Mr. Mario reach our bus stop?” I ask.

“Uh ten till?” she says.

“So then eighteen minutes, give or take. Not so bad,” I say.

“Don’t you have an actual timer on that thing?” she asks. I shake my head glumly. I run in place, shaking my arms for a few seconds before Shana follows suit. We are about to return the way we came when my phone rings. I answer it. It’s my mom and she’s speaking so hastily that I can barely hear her.

“Where are you? Why aren’t you home!?” she asks, almost frantic.

“We’re out jogging, Mom. What’s wrong?” I ask, worried.

“You need to come back now!” she shouts.

“What’s wrong?” I repeat, getting frustrated.

“There was an accident. Your father and I can’t wait for you. We’re going to the hospital in Andrews,” she says.

“An accident? With what, the bus?” I ask. “Yes your brother, come home now.” “Wait, Mom!” I shout, but she has already hung up.

“What’s wrong?” Shana asks.

“There was an accident with my brother. They say they’re going to the hospital,” I say.

“Oh my god! Is Denise okay?” she asks.

“I don’t know she didn’t say, but we have to go,” I say, taking off. I run back, with Shana right behind me, adrenaline pushing me forward. My memory guides me through, but my mind is going off in all sorts of directions. Did the bus crash? How badly is he hurt? What if he’s dying? What if he’s dead now? I keep thinking to myself. My eyes get watery and my heart races at those thoughts. It seems like much more than eighteen minutes to make the return to my house, but my lack of breath and numbing legs tell me it was much less.

“Alyssa!” I hear. I turn and see Shana way back, just emerging from the woods. She catches up and we run inside. As soon as I’m inside, I hear her phone going off. Shana rushes upstairs past me to answer it. I walk upstairs and wait a few minutes while Shana talks to her mother. She’s speaking too quietly for me to hear what she’s saying. After the phone call, Shana comes and speaks to me.